Behind the Waterfall
by MyLittleElphie
Summary: An ancient mystic tells of a maiden so fair that men came from near and far to woo her. She, however, had no interest in love, and rather devoted herself to prayer and her holy texts. To escape the men who kept seeking her attention, she disappeared one night, finding refuge in a cave behind a waterfall. Hundreds of years passed before she reappeared. Or so the legend says.
1. Prologue

**AN:**

 _ **Hi everyone!**_

 _Just very quickly a few things to get out of the way:_

 _1) This is a very short story - five to six chapters (including prologue and epilogue)_

 _2) The prologue at least (dunno about the epilogue yet) is pretty much as long as chapter one, so it's not the usual kind of prologue. I just called it that, because is has only very little to do with the chapters in between. The prologue and epilogue are more like a 'frame', especially because I needed a reason to retell the story of 'Saint Aelphaba of the Waterfall' for those of you who can't remember, or haven't read the books. Which leads me to my final point..._

 _3) The legend of Saint Elphaba is not mine. It was mentioned in the book, and I think it's also in "Tales Told in Oz" however, I didn't read that one. What happens after the prologue is based on this legend and my personal take on what really happened._

 _Phew, now that we got this out of the way, I hope this story is somewhat enjoyable._

 _... Oh, and: It's Gelphie, but at the same time not really the Gelphie you might expect... yeah, go figure xD_

 _As always, happy reading!_

 _xxx MLE_

* * *

 **Prologue**

Unenthusiastically, Glinda watched the old, shabby houses as the carriage clattered along the cobblestone streets of the most deprived district of Center Munch. Oh, how she despised these trips, the depressing sights they entailed, and the horrendous stench that stung in her nostrils. She sighed and cast a brief glance at her husband, who was covering his nose with a perfumed, silken handkerchief to ward off the offending smells. The reek of poverty. She hated acknowledging the fact that it existed. However, known as Glinda the Good, she felt obliged to – at least once in a while – swallow her discomfort and personally reach out to those who were less fortunate than her.

"Lady Chuffrey?"

She looked up with a mixed feeling of anticipation and dread.

"The establishment is right around the corner there," the driver informed her and turned back around to slow the horses to a walk.

Glinda picked up her purse and quickly opened it to make sure she had everything she would need with her.

"Dearest, how much shall I write the cheque for?" she asked as she spotted her cheque book, still searching for her gold and rubellite fountain pen.

"How little do you think we could get away with?" Sir Chuffrey grunted querulously.

Shocked by his answer, the petite blonde woman cast him a pointed look.

"But dearest, what in Oz has become of your generosity?"

Chuffrey grumbled something under his breath, and despite not being able to make out a single word, Glinda knew exactly where the shoe was pinching him.

"I know that the situation at the market is less than ideal at the moment, but the least we can do is to continue as usual and hold our heads up high. Things will improve in no time, of that I am certain."

The only reply that came from her husband's side was more morose muttering. Rolling her eyes, she closed her purse and re-arranged the fur collar of her coat.

"So I suppose you can part with three hundred guilders?"

Chuffrey was suddenly gripped by a bout of coughing and wheezing, which caused Glinda to exhale noisily in frustration.

"Fine. Two hundred and fifty it is."

The carriage came to a hold, and Glinda quickly moved to plant a hurried kiss on her husband's cheek.

"See you at the hotel then, dearest."

The driver had hopped off his high seat in the front and opened the door for his mistress, holding out a helping hand.

"Thank you, Phert," she nodded appreciatively. "Be back here in one hour and not a clock tick later, or I shall faint from this sickening smell."

The man tipped his hat and climbed back onto the carriage, clicking the reins.

Steeling herself, Glinda turned, and made to knock on the door. She hesitated, however, and before she could make up her mind, the door opened already, revealing a small woman with crooked teeth and an exceptionally weathered and wrinkly face. For a tense moment, the woman eyed every inch of the younger lady. Glinda would have said something to introduce herself, but something about that odd, old crone had rendered her ordinarily so eloquent tongue useless.

"Lady Chuffrey," the strange woman said at last, and all Glinda could do was nod. "Very good. We've been expecting you."

The door opened a little wider, and the woman turned her back, making no effort to extend a verbal invitation. It was very noisy inside, but what else should Glinda have expected? After all, this was not the first orphanage she had visited. As her husband liked to put it, children attract the press, and therefore are a good investment. She was not quite sure whether she agreed, but on the other hand, the decision over how to distribute the alms was not entirely up to her. They were a team, Glinda and Chuffrey; he earned the money, and she gave it away.

They reached the end of a long corridor, and the old woman rapped on the door in front of them.

"The money is here," she barked, and went her way.

The blonde's eyes widened as she was left behind, utterly speechless.

Creaking, the door opened, and another woman - not quite as old as the first one – greeted her with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, please don't mind that old bat, Lady Chuffrey. She has always been a little peculiar. But you see, when you're running a place like this, you appreciate any help you can get."

Glinda nodded understandingly, her eyes still directed at the corner where the ancient crone had disappeared.

"Well then, shall we say hello to the children? They are so very excited to have a visitor today."

Once more, Glinda inclined her head mutely in agreement.

The room she was led to was overcrowded, and yet, at the same time, so terribly empty, void of any homey touches. There were several rows of beds, the sheets and mattresses stained and damaged. Glinda immediately considered going back on her agreement with Chuffrey, and adding another few guilders to the cheque she was going to write at the end of her visit. The children, although clad in badly patched up clothes that rarely fit, were obviously freshly washed and groomed, and she very much appreciated this, as it made interacting with them so much easier. She was hardly surprised to see what an adorable bunch they were. Over the years she had learnt that, in fact, most of the poor youngsters who ended up in such establishments were - with the exception of the one, or the other feral child the mother of the house had only recently taken under her wing.

As soon as she set a foot into the room, she was surrounded by the excited mob of little Munchkins and slightly taller Munchkinlanders. The oldest girls cradled babies and toddlers in their arms, some of the boys were cheeky enough to come quite close and tug on her coat, demanding attention. Recognising the delight in their faces, Glinda could honestly say that she didn't mind.

"Shush, children, calm down every one, and greet Lady Chuffrey properly," their minder reprimanded them lightly, but it was hardly of any use.

"Are you a princess?" a small girl with tangled red hair piped up.

Glinda, caught slightly off guard, released a delighted, almost girlish giggle. Little ones tended to have this wonderfully rejuvenating effect on her, and at times like these, she almost regretted that she and Chuffrey did not have any children of their own.

"Well, darlings," she asked in her melodic voice, "I do happen to have a few minutes to spare, so what shall we do together?"

The children put their heads together, whispering and murmuring enthusiastically. Finally, they seemed to have come to an agreement. One of the older girls shyly stepped forward to relay their request.

"Please, Lady Chuffrey, can you read to us?"

"Oh, but of course," the blonde assented, but immediately regretted her rushed promise. Looking around, she was not at all sure whether there were any books in the house. She made mental note to organise a small collection to be sent to the orphanage later that same day.

Before she got a chance to even ask, however, another young girl had already approached her, holding out a beaten copy of _Life of the Saints_. Glinda frowned slightly. This was not quite the sort of storybook she would have chosen.

"Please," the little Munchkin begged her quietly. "It was my grandmother's."

Touched, Glinda smiled softly. She gingerly accepted the brittle book, and sat down on the hard, wooden stool one of the boys had procured for her. The children contented themselves with the floor.

As she flicked through the pages, praying that none of them would come loose, she chewed the inside of her cheek in contemplation. Which of these accounts would be suitable for the children? Weren't the tales in this book all inherently boring and overly religiously instructive? She gasped ever so slightly when she stumbled over her own name. Why, she had almost forgotten about her ancient namesake _Saint Glinda_. She was tempted to read further, for she could not for the life of her say what had actually been so holy about this woman, and somehow, this suddenly appeared to her as a major gap in her knowledge. But no, of course this would not do. She would have to do her research some other time, in private.

She turned a few more pages, until another familiar name came up. This time, she felt like lightning had struck her. _'Saint Aelphaba of the Waterfall,'_ the heading read, and Glinda bit her lip, hoping the sting would help her ignore the pang in her chest. She had certainly never heard about this particular myth. Was this where her green friend's name came from?

Elphaba, her _Elphie_. She had tried so hard to forget about her. The memories were altogether too painful to reminisce on. But how could she possibly forget a creature as extraordinary as Miss Elphaba Thropp? Sure, there were some days when she managed to banish the ghosts of the past to some remote corner of her head where they hardly bothered her. But all it took to release them were those tiny, most random reminders only she would ever connect with the emerald woman: the rain, which Elphaba had avoided like the pest; the smell of sandal wood, which had flooded their tiny dorm room in the evenings whenever Elphaba had returned from her bath routine, all clean and dressed for bed; or even something as silly as a brown note book, for except Elphaba, all other students had used stationary in the Shiz colours, blue and white. Her name was rare these days, and this was the first time in years Glinda had heard, or even read it.

She glanced up, feeling strangely insecure. The children watched her keenly, their eyes glowing. She suppressed a loud sigh and took a heart. This story was as good as any, she decided, and wet her lips in preparation.

She read out the title. It was an odd sensation as Elphaba's name rolled off her tongue. Glinda had no idea when she had last uttered it. After a brief pause, she continued.

 _In Munchkinland, in days of yore, a fair maiden lived in a small village. Although the daughter of a humble farmer, she was of such beauty and grace, that that every man in the country knew her name. Aelphaba she was called._

 _From an early age on, Aelphaba was a most pious child, devoted faithfully to her prayers and the study of holy books, for she was convinced that this was her sole joy and purpose in life. Once she was old enough to be considered a grown woman, a surfeit of suitors from near and far began to pilgrim to the little village to see her beauty and admire her virtue. Only the most courageous among them dared to propose, as most were too overwhelmed by her ethereal presence. None of them was fortunate enough to win her._

 _As years and years went by, admiration turned into anger. The men did not like how Aelphaba withheld herself. Despite her renowned beauty, she was still a mere woman, and a woman needed a husband to take care of her. The maiden's father began to grow anxious as well. He was growing older by the day, and still his only child had not found a man, let alone produced an heir who would inherit the land he owned. So he did little when men began to covertly follow her on her way to the chapel, lay in the wait for her when she left the house. Soon, there was no place left in the village that she could consider safe. Everywhere she went, she felt the men's hungry eyes upon her, and she feared for her sanctity and virtue._

 _So it came that one night, she packed a small satchel, taking her holy scriptures, and a single bunch of grapes. Thus equipped, she fled into the wilderness. However, she was still not out of harms way. Aelphaba was defenceless against the savage beasts that threatened her, and terribly scared of the wild men that hunted after her. Further and further she ventured into the dark wood, until she came upon a clearing with a roaring waterfall cursing off a cliff. Well hidden behind the waterfall, she spotted a cavern, hollowed out by the splashing water. She said," This is my cave," and discarded her clothes. Overjoyed to have at last found a new home, she crossed the pool of crystal blue, and walked through the glistening screen of pounding water. She found the cavern to be small, but comfortable, and so she sat down, and in the scarce light that filtered through the veil of water, she read her holy book and prayed and pondered on spiritual matters._

 _She remained there for a fairly long time, eating a grape every now and then. She lost track of the days, and could not tell how long exactly she had spent this way. When at last she had consumed the last of her grapes, she reluctantly put aside her book, and left the security of her cave. Unbeknownst to Aelphaba, hundreds of years had passed. She was surprised to find the forest changed, and her home gone. Instead of her old village, she discovered a new one at the banks of the river that led away from her waterfall. The houses and people appeared strange to her, but not as strange as she must have appeared to the villagers._

 _The Munchkins shrank in horror, for as children they had all played in the cavern behind the waterfall; and never had anyone ever seen the fair maiden in her naked beauty. Hoping to hush the small people's fears, Aelphaba approached them, speaking to them in a gentle voice. They could not understand her, yet they recognised the old tongue, and immediately, they all knew that is must be she, Saint Aelphaba, revered in the region for her devoutness and virtue. They built a chapel in her honour, and she acquiesced to stay for a little while, blessing the children and the elderly, and hearing the confessions of the middle-aged, and healing some sick, and feeding some hungry._

 _But even before a month had passed, Saint Aelphaba began to grow restless living amongst so many people, and she sensed that her time with the Munchkins was coming to an end. At night, while the entire village was deep asleep, she slipped out of her room, and ever so quietly headed back to her waterfall, once again disappearing behind its shimmering curtain. That was the last time anyone had ever seen, or heard of her._

Glinda stared at the last page for a little longer before she carefully closed the book. Around her, the room had become quiet, as all the children had been listening to her with rapt attention. After another clock tick or two, the first demands for another story were made, and soon more and more voices joined in, until all children were chanting in unison. The chime of the old clock in the hallway saved the blonde from having to choose another tale.

"Well," she said cheerfully, "this has been fun. However, as you can imagine, I have much to attend to."

She stood, handed the book back to its owner, and gave the caretaker a slight nod. They disappeared into the office, where Glinda wrote a cheque for three hundred and fifty guilders, and then they all sent her off, waving and shouting as she boarded her carriage. Phert said something to her as the horses were trotting along the streets, but she didn't pay it any mind. The entire way back to the hotel she spent in contemplative silence. She thought of Elphaba, and how little she and her namesake had in common. Having heard enough of the excessive godliness of Frexspar Thropp from her roommate, she would not put it past him to choose the name of a saint to counter his daughter's supposedly unholy appearance. But at any rate, it was actually quite a beautiful name, and strangely enough, it seemed to fit the green woman so exceptionally well. Perhaps, that was because Saint Aelphaba and her Elphie were more similar than one might expect. Who knows, she began to wonder, how much truth lies within a legend anyway?


	2. A Long Way From Home

_**AN:**_

 _This chapter was updated on the 25/06/2015._

 _All right... So, the "actual" story begins here. Let's see how this goes..._

 _Oh and:_

 _ **James Birdsong:**_ _Thank your for reading and reviewing! :D_

 _All right! Here goes nothing._

 _As always, happy reading! :)_

* * *

 **A Long Way From Home**

 _Four hundred seventy-nine years earlier._

The dull beating of hooves on soft soil disturbed what had been the perfectly quiet idyll of a beautiful morning. The early spring had the flowers blooming in all their colourful and dewy glory, the songs of little birds floated through the sweet, fresh air, and the sun's rays were just warm enough to render the heavy and cumbersome winter coats unnecessary. Out to enjoy the new freedom that came with the more favourable weather were two fine young ladies, riding their noble palfreys through the damp grass under the canopy of the forest. One was the Lady Galynda, graceful, elfin and beautiful, and the daughter of a Gillikinese margreave; the other was her lady in waiting and closest confidant, Lady Millifen. Not more than a few paces behind followed a huntsman on his chestnut gelding. The concerned Margreave had sent him to protect his precious child from the occasional dubious character, or wild animal. They travelled along their way, laughing and chatting and singing, until they reached a sunlit clearing where thousands upon thousands of tiny flowers littered the grass.

"Oh, just look at it, Millifen," Galynda gushed, "how lovely!"

She gathered the skirt of her dress in one hand, and elegantly slid out of the saddle to pick some of the pretty flowers, and weave them into a crown. Her friend looked on nervously, unwilling to dismount her horse.

"Come, join me," the Margreave's daughter pleaded, but to no avail.

She selected a violet and a pink primrose, and decided that they looked gorgeous together, so she went to find more of the same. Millifen took the reins of Galynda's horse, and slowly followed her across the meadow. As the huntsman arrived at the clearing, he wrinkled his brow in concern.

"It would be safer to stay on your horse, My Lady," he warned her gently once he had caught up with the young women.

Smiling brightly, Galynda turned to assure him that she would be fine, but in the same moment, a hissing sound, followed by a thud resonated through the space of the clearing. The smile on the lady's face vanished, as her eyes grew wider and her face deadly pale. She stumbled backwards, falling into the bed of flowers. A shrill cry ripped from her throat when the lifeless body of the huntsman dropped heavily beside her, the deadly arrow still lodged in his eye socket. Millifen urged her horse forward, and reached out with her hand.

"Galynda, quick! We must leave. Now!"

A second arrow was sent their way, and only barely missed the mounted lady's horse. The beast reared and fled, with Millifen holding on to the saddle in desperation. The other two horses likewise galloped for their lives. Now Galynda was all by herself, terrified, her chest heaving, and already imagining what it would feel like to die. Her eyes darted from left to right, searching for any clues as to where the attacker was hiding and who they were. One man detached himself from the shadows of the trees, then another and another few more. There were ten of them altogether, uncouth and wild by appearance. She knew she wouldn't stand a chance.

"Please," she whimpered and begged once the first man stood before her, "I don't have anything of value on me. The most precious thing I had with me was my horse, and you chased him off already. Please, let me go."

The man chuckled, and his companions joined in as they approached. He drew his sword, and poked it at Galynda's slender neck, forcing her to look up. Her breath stilled. She didn't dare to risk the slightest movement.

"This is a pretty dress you're wearing, little girl. Say, who are you?"

His face was ironically handsome – dark blue, well set eyes and moderately tanned skin, surprisingly free of blemishes, or scars. However, this did not distract from the coldness in his gaze. There was no doubt that this man had killed many in his life, and there was no reason why he should spare her.

He let his sword wander downwards. When he reached the neckline of her riding habit, the sharp blade easily cut through the laces, allowing the material of the bodice to loosen somewhat. Less restricted by her own clothing, and her tender neck no longer in immediate jeopardy, Galynda took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. Trying not to sound as pathetic as she felt, she replied,

"I'm the daughter of a margreave. Deliver me to my father, and you will be richly rewarded."

"Deliver you, and reap imprisonment and execution as reward?" The man smirked as he shook his head. "I don't think so."

With a loud whistle, he called forth two more men the young woman had not noticed before. The short, plump one was leading a horse – a pitiful, gaunt creature; the other one was what Galynda could only describe as a giant, carrying a long rope across his chest. Galynda sobbed, and implored the outlaws to release her. But unmoved by her tears, they bound her hands and bound her feet, and they heaved her on top of the hack like a sack of potatoes. They mounted their own horses, and off they went, cantering along secret paths no one would be able to follow.

* * *

It was dark before they reached their shelter for the night, a seedy inn of some sort that smelt of rotten wood and skunky beer. The other customers seemed to mind the stench about as much as they cared about the bound woman. They were all cast of the same mould, Galynda thought bitterly when it became obvious that she would not find any allies here. Rough hands pushed her forward, in the direction of a rudimentary counter.

"Good evening, gentlemen," a woman in a short skirt and a tight corset greeted the party. "Oh, what is this?" She inspected the exhausted woman, and wiggled her dark eyebrows. "Did you bring me a new attraction for my small business?"

Galynda's heart skipped a beat. Would this be her fate? Mustering the feeble remainders of her courage, she looked the woman straight in the eyes, aiming for _'stubborn'_. She failed miserably.

Smirking triumphantly, and licking her lips, the woman made to stroke her cheek, but the boss of the gang roughly slapped her hand away.

"This one's not for you, Yana. A pretty thing like her would only go to waste here."

She glared at him, not taking the insult lightly.

"Tonight, we're only here for a roof over our heads and some food in our bellies."

Huffing, the woman handed out a few keys.

"You know the way," she growled before marching off.

The man tipped his hat to her bare back, and waved a hand at his men. Galynda was dragged upstairs, where she was shoved into a pitch-black room. There, she left behind, while the men went downstairs to enjoy their meal. The floor was hard and cold. After all those hours of lying prone on that bony horse with its pronounced spine, her entire body was aching, and her current position certainly didn't help. Worse however, was the total lack of light. She felt disoriented, not able to even see her own hands before her eyes. The sounds coming from the other rooms and from the dining hall below appeared amplified tenfold, and they were not of the most pleasant kind. She would have been terrified, had she still had the energy for such strong emotions. Instead, she simply plummeted into a feeling of complete helplessness and hopelessness. She began to drift off, but she wouldn't find any decent sleep. Whenever she was close, a sudden noise would make her jump, and gasp.

When the door finally opened again and light fell on her face, Galynda hated how relieved she felt. The man with the dark blue eyes strode inside the room, opened the curtains, and lit the lamp that was sitting on the small table. She watched him closely, finding comfort in the fact that she could see at all. After this dreadful experience, she suddenly felt empowered by the idea that she knew what was happening around her. Without paying her any attention, the man sat down, produced a stained piece of pater from the pocket of his vest and the stump of a pencil from a leather pocket on his belt. Galynda, although still scared, had now reached a bizarre state of calmness. After watching the man for several long minutes, she gathered her courage and spoke.

"What are you going to do with me? If you're not going to demand ransom for me, and not going to sell me to a whorehouse, what else could I be good for? Perhaps you should know: I can neither cook, wash laundry, or mend clothes."

Most disturbingly, he laughed at that - not an evil laughter, but a genuinely amused one.

"Well, if you really have to know, your type is highly sought after by the Winkie savage kings. The girls there all have skin in the colour of shit, so golden curls and ivory skin like yours make the men there go wild."

Stunned into silence, the blonde stared at the outlaw. The man snorted, and ran his tongue over his teeth.

"Who knows, if you please your master and obey, he even might make you his queen. You should thank us for this opportunity."

He returned to writing his letter, note, whatever it was, tossed her a handful of bread to eat, and motioned for her to lie on the bed. For a moment, Galynda feared he might join her, but then he extinguished the light and made himself comfortable on the floor. How he could sleep there was beyond her, but why would she care? It was dark again, but this time, the moon was allowed to peek through the dirty window. Its pale light was just enough to convey a measure of security to Galynda, and so she eventually dozed off.

They left the inn before most of the other patrons had even awoken. After promising that she would behave, Galynda was allowed to sit in the saddle this time, mostly because excessive bruising would be unsightly and might lower the price they could sell her for to their Vinkun contact. Her riding habit was rolled up and wrapped in a cloth, while she was made to wear an outfit the boss had bought off one of the girls working at the establishment.

Two days later, only six of the twelve men were still riding with them. More than that were absolutely not necessary for this excursion, so the others had stayed behind in hopes to rake in the one or the other booty in the meantime. Besides, fewer men would naturally arouse less suspicion. Galynda's hands and feet were also no longer restrained. For the time being, she had decided to obey her capturers. She was a smart woman, and early on she had realised that any ill-timed and ill-prepared escape would most likely end in tragedy. Riding on her own horse, the thought of simply galloping off taunted her, as it was so tempting. But she resisted. The old, worn out hack carrying her would not make it further than the next fork before collapsing.

By evening, they reached a small Munchkin village. While the locals were wary of any strangers that had came along, they did not think that anything was particularly amiss about the young woman travelling with the group of men. If anything, it made them appear less threatening, and so one of the farmers reluctantly offered his guest room for Galynda to sleep in, and his barn for the rest of the band. A few coins changed hands as a gesture of gratitude, and everyone settled down for the night.

Only one man was allowed into the house, sleeping on a fold-up cot in front of Galynda's door. To _'protect her,'_ of course. The owner, however, had insisted on choosing this man himself, so he had selected the one he thought looked most trustworthy, and least capable of slitting his throat at night. The young woman and her protector were both invited to share the family's dinner. Although her stomach was rumbling furiously, and her mouth was watering at the sight of a rich table, set with several platters of fresh meats and vegetables, and oven hot bread, Galynda did her best not to let it show. She contented herself with a slice of the bread, some cheese to go with it, and a cup of cider. The man didn't seem to have too much appetite either, except for the wine.

Then they retired. Instead of sleeping, Galynda lay in bed awake, thinking. This was the least restricted she had been since her capture. Her head told her that if she could not use this situation to her advantage, she would never see her home and her father again. However, as much as she had hoped and waited for an opportunity like hits, she was also terrified. She wasn't entirely sure if she would have the courage to actually attempt a getaway. Her contemplations were interrupted by a mighty thud against the door, a sound like if the guard who was watching over her had gotten off his bed in need for a piss, and taken the wrong direction on his way out.

Well, if that had been his plan, he must have changed his mind, for the next noise that followed was a rattling that sounded much more like a frustrated drunkard trying hopelessly to work a rusty, old lock. Or perhaps not too hopelessly after all. A little shriek escaped her lips when the man suddenly stood in her bedroom, his eyes twinkling in the dark. All of the men knew their instructions – no touching the merchandise, for a maiden who was no longer a maiden was practically worthless. Yet, in his drunken state, Galynda somehow doubted that he still remembered. Or even cared. The boss would have his head come morning, but by then it would be too late for her.

Struggling to breathe, and hearing her blood pumping in her ears, Galynda wanted nothing more than to scramble off the bed and find herself a corner to disappear in, but her useless limbs would not obey her. Her entire body was immobilised by the fear of what was to come next, and all she was capable of was watching the unkempt, filthy bastard loosen his belt, and stepping forward. He sat down beside her, and offered her a crooked grin, baring his mouthful of rotten teeth. He lifted his hand, first letting it almost gently glide through her hair, but then grabbing it, and pulling her closer. It was enough to elicit a proper scream from her, and she prayed that someone would have heard. The man's face slowly moved closer, and she expected a sloppy, wet, stinking kiss, but instead, he sniffed at her like a dog, nostrils flaring wide as he drunk in her alluring scent. She might not have washed for a couple of days, but to a wild beast like him, she still smelt like a woman.

Next thing she knew, he had pulled her off the bed, and slammed her against the wall. He pounced at her clumsily, knocking the wind out of her for a clock tick. Filled to the brim with sweet wine, he lost his balance, and they both ended up on the floor. He didn't seem to mind, and eagerly shoved her with her back against the bedframe, reaching for her skirt. With a lout _clonk_ , the lid of the chamber pot sitting on the bedside table next to her hit the floor, and broke in two. That gave Galynda an idea. She reached up, however, her hand grasped at nothing but thin air. She swung her leg to give the wobbly furniture a good kick. The cold ceramic barely grazed her fingertips. Another kick, and she could finally grasp the handle. With a strength she could not even explain, she ripped the chamber pot from the nightstand, and smashed against the man's head. He gasped, and stilled. She tried to lift the thing once more to whack it on his thick skull for a second time, for good measure, but it was simply too heavy.

Or perhaps, just heavy enough. With a last twitch, the man's body collapsed in itself. Eyes wide, her breaths coming in short gasps, Galynda stared at what she had done. There was some blood, but not all that much. The man didn't move a muscle, and his eyes were closed, so it was difficult to tell whether he was dead, or merely unconscious. The blonde had no desire to find out. She didn't quite know how she would feel about having actually killed someone, and certainly didn't intend to risk her only chance at escape by making sure that her tormentor was alive and well. So she pushed him away from herself with trembling hands. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she staggered to her feet. Nausea overcame her as everything that had and might have transpired registered in her head. Fighting the rising bile, she stumbled to the window.

She immediately realised that the window was not an escape option. It was low enough to climb out, but only fifteen, twenty feet away was the barn the other men were spending the night in. The thought of informing the owner of this house crossed her mind, but in the end she was too scared that he might not believe her, or that he might have no interest in helping her, or that he might be too scared to do so once he knew who his guests were. It wasn't worth the risk. It couldn't be _that_ difficult to find a way out, she told herself.

After wandering through the house aimlessly for quite a while and finding all doors that led outside to be locked, she finally discovered a kitchen window on the south side of the building. Beneath it ran a small stream, which meant that her clothes would get soaked. What a small price to pay. She climbed on the windowsill, and jumped.

The water wasn't deep enough to cushion her fall. Landing on her bare feet, she was unfortunate enough to twist her ankle. She hissed in pain, but there was no time to complain. Following the river upstream, she began her long, solitary march, hoping to be as far away from the village as possible by the time the first sunlight would wake the outlaws, and alarm them of her disappearance. The house was barely out of sight, and her lower legs already began to feel as though they were about to fall off - that's how cold the water was. But the water was her best friend right now, she knew. First of all, as she lost the feeling in her feet, she also forgot about the pain in her ankle. Secondly, she had been out hunting with her father before; whenever the dogs had lost track of their prey, it was because a river or lake had obscured the scent.

* * *

By midday, she reached a point where she could no longer follow her chosen path. The stream had led her along meadows, and fields, and into the thicket of a dense forest. Now the trees had thinned, and revealed a clearing. The water gathered in a small pool of clear, crystal blue water. There was a cliff, overgrown with moss and hedges and small trees, and from that cliff poured a waterfall. Galynda looked around, worried. It would be impossible for her to climb the rock, but perhaps she no longer needed to. She had come a long way already. How could they possibly find her here?

So she stepped out of the water, and stretched out her arms towards the warming sun. A tired and relieved sigh spilled from her mouth as she slumped into the grass. She certainly deserved a little break. She began massaging her frozen legs, and they began to tingle rather unpleasantly. If she had to get up the next moment, she was almost sure she would not be able to, even if her life depended on it. Despite the hot weather, a shiver ran down her spine, and she realised that she had to rid herself of her wet clothes. Still a little self conscious, she stripped down to her chemise, reasoning that the thin material should dry quickly enough, even on her body. The dress, she spread over a low-hanging branch. Then all she could do was wait and rest.

She didn't dare close her eyes, no matter how much her body craved the sleep. She wiggled her toes, glad to feel the life slowly coming back to them. She yawned, and immediately reproached herself sternly. Once again, she surveyed the area. There had to be _something_ she could do to keep her mind occupied. Moving closer to the water of the pool, she could see her own reflection. The young woman staring back at her looked familiar, but not at all like her. The golden curls on her head looked matted and lacklustre, her skin was grimy and oily. On a normal day, she would have broken out in tears, but she was past such minor worries now. Her only real concern was how she would find her way back to her father. Goodness knew how far from her Gillikinese home those varlets had dragged her already. Chances were that she was walking only further in the wrong direction.

She sighed, but nearly choked on the sound. Behind her, the rustling of leaves made her heart leap into her throat. Trying to tell herself that it was only some deer, or rabbit, or wild hog, Galynda remained perfectly still. The noise drew closer and closer, yet not in a threatening way. Whatever it was moved carefully, maybe almost as scared of her as she was of it. If it had been one of the men who had captured her, she was certain that he would halve already seized her. What she soon saw appearing next to her own mirror image was definitely not what she had expected.


	3. Exceedingly Peculiar

_**AN:**_

 _All right, my lovelies!_

 _Here is the next chapter. Not much to say, I think? Just read, and I hope you'll enjoy! :)_

 _Happy reading!_

 _xxx_

* * *

 **Exceedingly Peculiar**

"Who are you?"

The voice that belonged to the woman whose reflection she saw in the water was deeper and stronger than Galynda would have guessed, judging by her thin, pale, yes, almost frail appearance. Her heartbeat speeding up a notch, she cautiously turned around to see the mirror image's counterpart. Then her breath caught in her throat.

"Who are you, and what brings you to my waterfall?" the woman asked, not unfriendly, but certainly wary.

Galynda knew that it was more than impolite not to answer; yet she was too enthralled by what she saw – in a nonplussed kind of way. Although she had seen her likeness reflected in the water before, seeing the real thing, and in all her glory was different. There was a strange, otherworldly beauty about this woman. She was taller than the Gillikinese ideal, and her face with those magnificent, pastel green eyes looked too foreign to be considered pretty in the common sense, but still Galynda felt that her own beauty would never compare to that of the woman before her.

"I… am Galynda," she answered at last, eyes still trained on the stranger.

The pale woman nodded.

"I did not mean to intrude, I was just-

"Wait, did you say _your_ waterfall?"

"I live here," came her curt reply.

This seemed odd to the blonde, but only until she realised that the strange woman was not wearing a shred of fabric to cover herself. Her long, dark, slightly wavy hair concealed her chest, but the rest left fairly little to imagination. Galynda blushed. She must have seen it the moment she had turned to face her, however, the strangeness had simply not registered before now.

"W-what are you? A sea witch?"

Galynda had heard of those creatures in tales her father's friends had brought back from their travels. They lured unsuspecting sailors into their territories before swallowing them with one gigantic wave – ship and everything. Then they would feast on their flesh. The young lady's heart skipped a beat. The fact that this pool seemed rather small and placid did not necessarily mean that it wasn't just as dangerous.

Quirking the corners of her lips, the other woman huffed amusedly.

"I'm about as human as you are. My name is Aelphaba."

The blonde bobbed her head wordlessly, slightly confused and slightly embarrassed.

"I apologise. I suppose this was a little silly of me."

"A little," Aelphaba agreed. "You're not from here," she observed.

"No. Although I have no idea where _'here'_ is, I can say with confidence that I'm not from this place. My guard was killed, and I was taken by a band of outlaws, to be sold to a Winkie king, apparently. I-"

She wanted to say something more, but suddenly her mind went blank. Her lower lip began to quiver, and soon her entire body was shaking. She sank to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. It seemed like her emotions had finally caught up with her. Clearly at a loss as what to do, Aelphaba watched her for a few clock ticks, but then she went down to her knees to rest a comforting hand on Galynda's shoulder. Her hand was as cold as the water of the stream.

Galynda's head flicked up in alarm.

"Oh, my apologies… my fault," the pale woman muttered, and withdrew.

"What happened to your hand?"

Galynda's tears, although still dripping down her nose and her chin, had stopped. In her eyes, Aelphaba saw only curiosity and worry - not the fear, or repulsion she had expected. She opened her mouth, although she didn't quite know what exactly she should tell her. Then she froze.

"You escaped the outlaws?" Aelphaba asked after a brief pause.

Galynda nodded.

"Were you followed?"

A crease appeared between the smaller woman's eyebrows, and she shook her head.

Aelphaba remained silent after that, however, her eyes were restless. She was worried, or scared maybe. But she was also deeply concentrated, as if she were riddling something out, or trying very hard to listen? Suddenly, she lunged forward, grasping for Galynda's upper arms, and pulling her up with her as she rose.

"Come," she breathed. The only reply Galynda knew to give was a bewildered look.

"They are coming for you, we have to go."

"Go? But where? How do you even-"

Terrified, the Gillikinese whipped her head about, trying to see with her own eyes what Aelphaba was hearing. There was nothing at first, but then a small herd of deer broke through the thicket. They were followed by a drumroll of heavier, bigger hooves. Aelphaba reached for her hand, and squeezed it. Next thing Galynda knew, she was being pulled into the cool water.

Fully submerged, she had no sense of direction. The water was stinging her eyes, still sore from crying. She hadn't had a chance to catch a decent breath, yet Aelphaba was dragging her deeper and deeper. Panic gripped her. She didn't want the outlaws to recapture her, but she didn't want to drown either. As her air ran out, she gasped, swallowing a mouthful of water. Struggling with all she had, she fought to free herself from Aelphaba's grip.

The pale woman turned around, eyes wide when she realised the blonde's distress. She pulled her close. Placing a hand at the back of her head, she stilled Galynda enough so that their mouths could meet, like in a long, firm kiss. Utterly perplexed, Galynda almost forgot to take in the much-needed air Aelphaba was offering her. But now they had to move quickly, for even Aelphaba could not go for much longer without breathing. She wrapped one arm around the smaller woman's waist, and swam as fast as she could. The next moment, everything went dark, and Galynda's spirit dropped. Her own grip on Aelphaba's hand loosened, as her head became light and dizzy. Just on time, she was being hauled out of the cold pool.

She coughed so hard she thought she was about to vomit. Then, the first proper gulp of air. It was so painful. Her throat, her lungs, her midriff, her abdomen – everything burned, stung, or hurt in one way or another.

"Are you all right?"

Galynda could barely understand what Aelphaba was saying. The throbbing in her head was too intense. Coughing some more, she collapsed onto the hard ground. There she lay, motionless. Her eyelids felt so heavy that a little nap sounded like a pretty good idea.

However, she wasn't granted this luxury. She couldn't quite tell what was going on around her, but as soon as Aelphaba had noticed her weakened state, she had hurried to her side. The blonde grumbled grouchily, as she was being picked up. Long, surprisingly strong arms wrapped around her torso, and began to squeeze. Two, three jerks, and Galynda was coughing out spouts of water. Once her airways appeared to be clear, she was gently lowered to the cold, clammy floor.

Slowly, life returned to her exhausted body. Her environment came into focus. The ground was uncomfortable, rock-hard, but then she realised that her head was resting on something softer. She tilted her head as best she could. What she saw was dark, wet locks, sticking to pale skin. Galynda jolted up in surprise, and immediately clambered away from Aelphaba's lap. Breathing heavily, she sat there for a short while, taking in her surroundings. It was still rather dark. They were in what looked like a cave. The pool of water lay calm, only a few inches away. In the background, she could hear steady dripping. From further away sounded the muffled thundering of the waterfall. After a few clock ticks, she finally dared to meet the other woman's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Aelphaba said. "Are you all right?"

Galynda nodded.

"I'm fine. I think."

"Good. Let's move on then. Your lips are blue and you're trembling. I didn't save you from those ruffians to have you freeze to death in my own home."

Hesitant at first, Galynda accepted the outstretched hand. It was still just as cold, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. If Aelphaba had noticed, she didn't let it show. The taller woman pulled her to her feet, and carefully guided her through the narrow passageways. Most of the time they walked up gentle slopes. Sometimes, there were steeper inclines to climb, and every now and then, there was a slight dip in the path. The light was dim, but the sun found enough ways into the cave system to help them see at least the outlines of their obstacles.

To Galynda, their journey through the dark had seemingly taken an eternity, although in truth, it had been no longer than five minutes. When they finally stepped out of the twilight, the claustrophobic tunnel widened into a generous chamber-like structure; the waterfall was pouring down right in front of them, disguising the open end of the cave like a veil. The light filtering through the curtain of water and various gaps was just enough to let them know that it was still day outside.

"I suppose you could call these my living quarters," Aelphaba laughed, then she grew serious again.

Galynda didn't know what to say. The cave was impressive – in regards to size, and as a monument, created entirely by nature. However, for a domestic space it was terribly bare and uninviting. There was a dark spot in the middle of the room (and nearby a wicker basket filled with little sticks and a few bigger branches) where she suspected Aelphaba built a fire whenever she was in need of one, and there was a heap of hay that looked only semi comfortable for seating, or sleeping purposes – even by poor-people standards. And then there was that dusty pile of jute sacs in the right-hand corner, perhaps some sort of storage. Although whatever was in those bags couldn't be very important if they obviously hadn't been touched in a good while. And that was already all she could recognise as any form of furnishing, or décor.

Aelphaba released the Gillikinese's hand, leaving her standing where they had entered the room, dumbfounded. She crossed the area until she reached a spot where there was a slight gap between the water and the wall of the cave. She leaned just far enough to catch a glimpse of the clearing. Galynda bit her lip. She was trembling more violently now, and she could not quite tell whether it was the chill, or the fear. She took a timid step forward, but didn't dare to actually look.

"A-are they gone?"

"On the contrary. I'm afraid they are setting up camp."

This was odd. Discarding her initial reluctance, Galynda hurried to have a look.

"It's in the middle of the day. Why would they rest now?"

Aelphaba pointed a long, slim finger at a branch the men had driven into the soft soil.

"It would seem they found a vital clue regarding your whereabouts."

Standing on her tiptoes, the blonde strained to see over the taller woman's shoulders. Her eyes grew wide as she recognised the dress she had left behind, handing from the rod like a pennant.

"Oh no! What in Oz shall we do?"

"Nothing," Aelphaba replied calmly, shrugging one shoulder. "They don't know these caves exist. Neither do they know that you know they exist. They will never find you."

Galynda drew a shuddering breath, and swallowed hard.

Both women fell silent. Aelphaba cast a final glance at the men further down, then turned towards Galynda. She studied her thoroughly, taking in every detail, from the golden curls to the tiny goose bumps on her arms and legs.

"You're cold. I almost forgot. I'll make you a fire."

One last lingering look, and she swiftly turned to fetch some sticks and kindling from the wicker basket. She piled up the wood expertly, and lit the fire using flint and steel.

The crackling of the fire was inviting, and drew Galynda closer. She sat down opposite Aelphaba, her gaze trained to the ground. The warmth was soothing, and after all that had happened that day, a great comfort. She suddenly realised that she was free, and to a certain degree, she was safe. Although still far away from home, she was less afraid now. It was a good feeling. The thought that she should thank her unlikely saviour crossed her mind. She looked up, not yet sure how to express her gratitude. Words failed her, as she beheld Aelphaba braiding her long hair, leaving her entirely exposed. Galynda's ears turned read, and her face blushed deep pink, but she could simply not avert her eyes. As inappropriate as it might have been, there was something fascinating about this sight.

Sensing the blonde's eyes lingering, Aelphaba paused, and returned her gaze.

"My old clothes I arrived in proved highly impractical," the pale woman explained quietly. "And just as unnecessary. I no longer feel the cold... Nor do I usually entertain guests. It has been a while since fellow human eyes last met mine."

There was a deep sadness to these words. Galynda almost felt compelled to reach out, and embrace this woman she barely knew. Almost. She tried to offer her a small smile instead, hoping it would have a similar effect.

"How long have you been here?" she asked carefully.

Wrong question. Quickly looking away, Aelphaba let her hands drop into her lap. Her entire body seemed tense.

"Too long," she pressed out between grinding teeth. Then she jumped up, the unfinished braid unravelling, and the silky hair smoothly falling over her back. "We will need more firewood. If I collect some now, it might be dry again by tomorrow morning."

With that, she disappeared through the narrower passageway. Galynda considered the basket with the rest of the wood. Once dry, she wouldn't need the fire to be burning constantly. It was not as cold here as it was in Gillikin. Then she remembered the outlaws, probably still on the lookout for her. She staggered to her feet, and stumbled over to the viewpoint.

Of course they were still there. Galynda gasped, her eyes searching restlessly for any sign of Aelphaba. There was noting. She wondered how long it would take her to reach the entrance to the cave, how long to swim until she reached the other side. After only two minutes, she grew fidgety. Treading from one foot to the other, she kept watching the pool and the shore. The men were not far. One was looking after the horses, two of them were erecting a makeshift tent of some sort, and two more were standing close to the water, talking animatedly. The man who had tried to force himself on her the night before was not among them. As soon as she had realised this, she dismissed the thought. She preferred not to ponder over his fate. Then, at last, she spotted Aelphaba. She had resurfaced to the far right, as far away from the outlaws and as close to the shore as possible. Galynda watched her climb out of the water, and disappear in the thicket. Finally, she could release the breath she had been holding.

Already on her way back to the fire she felt terribly drained. She sat down, watching the flames, and waited. How long would that odd woman be gone? The dancing fire was hypnotic. She felt her head grow heavier while she slipped in and out of conciseness. She saw shadows, heard sounds, yet couldn't tell which were real and which were mere tricks of her tired mind. At some point, she was able to convince her body to move, and retrieve some more wood from the wicker basket. As soon as she had added it to the fire, the warmth increased considerably. Eventually, she lost the struggle, as this feeling of cosiness lulled her to sleep.

* * *

When Galynda awakened, it was dark. The fire had almost burnt down. It was getting a little chilly, but her hair and chemise had dried in the meantime, so she didn't mind too much.

"Aelphaba?"

She pushed herself up on her hands to look around. Evidently, she was still alone. A small whimper escaped her lips. Anxious, she turned her head towards the waterfall.

"Miss me?"

A hand placed over her heart, Galynda wheeled back around to the entrance.

"Thank Oz, you're all right. You are quite inconsiderate, you know? Being so reckless and all. Without you, I'd never make it out of here!"

Aelphaba's brows rose, and she smirked.

"So you're glad to see me?"

Noticing the bundle in Aelphaba's hands, the blonde cast her a questioning look. Aelphaba placed it on the ground, and began to unpack a piece of cheese, something that looked like soaked dried meat, and an apple.

"I realised you'd get hungry soon."

"You stole this from the men who are looking for me?" Galynda asked incredulously.

"Yes. That's why I had to wait until they were asleep."

With one swift motion, the taller woman picked up the cloth the food had been wrapped in, draping it around her torso. The white sheet covered everything from her chest to her mid-thigh. To the Gillikinese's surprised expression she replied,

"I know it made you uncomfortable."

With that, she began to sort out the firewood.

After Aelphaba had turned around, Galynda waited a clock tick longer before slowly scooching closer to the food, and reaching for the apple. The other woman soon returned, adding a few pieces of wood to the smouldering pile of charred sticks, and stoked the fire. Then she sat down, and began to braid her hair again.

"Have you already eaten?"

Aelphaba's hands stilled, and she looked up.

"I learnt to live off the wild grapes that happen to be growing on the side of the cliff. There is not much else here I could eat on a regular basis."

"Now that it's here, you could at least have a bite of the cheese," Galynda suggested.

"An extremely rare treat. I better resist, or I might develop a taste for it."

Shaking her head, the blonde returned her attention to her apple, taking a healthy bite.

They went to sleep soon thereafter. Even though Galynda had already had a nap, she was still exhausted enough for a second round. The _'bed'_ really was the pile of dried grass and leaves she had noticed earlier. It was meant for only one person, so, naturally, it was somewhat cramped - on top of being scratchy, and not at all as soft as she had dared to hope. Aelphaba did her best not to come in contact with her blonde guest's skin, and although Galynda at first thought that she was being overly concerned about giving her enough space, she eventually found out the real reason. In her sleep, she rolled over, unconsciously wrapping her arms around the slender frame next to her. She was used to the presence of another person in her bed. Gillikinese winters could be cruel, so in the coldest nights, she and her lady in waiting often shared beds to keep each other warm. This body, however, had no warmth to offer. Shocked by the cold, the smaller woman jolted up. For a drowsy moment, she panicked, thinking the other woman had died in her sleep. Luckily, Aelphaba's deep and even breaths told her otherwise. It was a confounding phenomenon. Not only Aelphaba's hands – no, her entire body was frigid.

"Who, are you? What happened to you?"

The pale woman stirred at Galynda's hushed whispers, and the Gillikinese tensed, afraid she might wake up. If she did, she didn't know what to say to her. All this was too bizarre to comprehend, especially in her sleepy state. Strangely enough, she was not scared, only concerned for her newfound friend. They _were_ friends of sorts, weren't they? Aelphaba had protected her, even went out of her way to procure something edible for her. And Galynda in return cared enough to worry about her. This made her wonder whether, in the event that she could never return to her own home, Aelphaba would allow her to stay here with her. After all, she surely had no better idea where else to go.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she snuggled back into the soft bedding. Her body still felt weak, but the cogs in her head had begun churning, and there was no stopping them now. So she closed her eyes, brooding over anything that came to her mind. She made a mental list what to ask Aelphaba, what to tell her about herself in return to maintain a fair trade-off. She would find out where she was, and how far away from Gillikin. If there was a way for her to return, she would leave sooner rather than later. Perhaps, she should ask Aelphaba if she would like to accompany her. The journey would be less dangerous if she weren't alone, and surely, her father would have enough room in his castle for someone who saved his daughter's life.

* * *

The first thing the two women did once they had awoken was to check on the outlaws camping in the clearing. They were already awake, but did not seem in a hurry to leave. Galynda huffed in frustration. She bent down to pick up a small pebble. When she reached back to throw it as far as possible, Aelphaba seized her wrist. The blonde turned her head to glower at her, but the taller woman simply shook her head, and the stone dropped to the ground.

After that, they continued with breakfast and some housekeeping. While Galynda used a makeshift besom to clean up the remainders of their campfire, Aelphaba left the cave to harvest a bunch of the wild grapes she had told her about earlier. She left the white sheet behind, as is would only get wet, but put it back on as soon as she returned. Galynda was left with a mild sense of confusion, as she noted that she was almost disappointed at that. She comforted herself with a meal of cheese and grapes. The grapes were a little sour, but together with the cheese, the tanginess only added to the flavour.

Although Galynda did her best not being too bothersome with her questions, Aelphaba seemed disinclined to tell her much. By the time they shared a meagre lunch, Aelphaba knew all about the Gillikinese lady's childhood, her favourite pastimes and even her greatest fears. Galynda, on the other hand, had learnt not much more than the trivial fact that Aelphaba didn't care much for murdering wild animals – a shred of information she had surrendered quite willingly after hearing Galynda gush about the excitement of a good hunt.

By the afternoon, the men had left. Galynda was relieved to say the least, but when Aelphaba declared that she would use this chance to collect some more material for their bed, she was still reluctant to let the other woman go. In the end, she was able to convince her that their current bed pile was most certainly sufficient.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, as did the next few. The women enjoyed each other's company, despite the restrictions they faced. Although occasionally tempted by the threatening boredom, Galynda was adamant that she would not take the dive again, unless she had a good reason not to return to the cave afterwards. The worst times were when Aelphaba left in search of food, or other necessities. Sometimes she left without any warning, knowing that the Gillikinese would otherwise try to physically hinder her, or at least try to wheedle her into staying. The first time this had happened, Galynda had almost died of worry – or so she had told Aelphaba upon her return to make sure she felt adequately guilty. However, to her credit, she had to admit that Aelphaba never stayed away for very long. Galynda knew for a fact that, if she had the opportunity to leave, she would want to enjoy her freedom for as long as possible.

With the food and supplies Aelphaba brought back from her trips to the forest, she also brought grass she later hung up to dry, one bunch at a time. Eventually, their bed increased in size, yet Galynda didn't even think about making full use of the additional space available to her. She still preferred sleeping as close to the taller woman as possible, despite still being skittish of accidental contact with her cold skin. In their sixth night together, though, she hesitantly reached out to place the palm of her hand on Aelphaba's upper arm once she believed her sleeping. The chill was uncomfortable at first, and prevented her from falling asleep. After a few hours had gone by, however, her eyes had fallen shut, and sleep had claimed her at last. The following morning, she opened her eyes to find that her hand was still lingering on the exact same spot. She was particularly surprised to discover that her hand had not turned into an icicle, as she had secretly feared, but that the area of Aelphaba's arm where her hand had rested was just a little bit warm to the touch.


	4. What Lies in the Past

**_An:_**

 _Hey guys!_

 _I'm currently on holidays in Wellington. This chap was more or less done before I left, but the next one is still in progress, so not sure how long it will take until I can update. But no worries, it won't be that bad._

 _And now:_

 _Happy reading! :3_

* * *

 **What Lies in the Past**

One morning, Galynda awoke with a start. As she clumsily fell over Aelphaba, the other woman also was rudely awakened.

"Galynda?" she murmured sleepily, rubbing the spot where the blonde's elbow had stabbed at her ribs. "What in Oz?"

Galynda, however didn't answer. Instead, she simply sat there, hunched over and sniffing, shaking all over. She felt cool arms close around her clumsily. It was funny, but the cold no longer bothered her. Truth be told, it even helped to calm her down, and clear her head. Still struggling with the aftermath of what had been a terrible nightmare, she leaned back against Aelphaba's body, her head resting on her shoulder.

"Will you be all right?" Aelphaba asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

The petite Gillikinese slowly shook her head in response.

"But I don't seem to have much of a choice."

"I'm sure your father thinks of you," the dark-haired woman assured her tentatively. She began stroking the golden curls, hoping it would somehow comfort her friend.

"Think of me?" A mirthless laugh sprang from Galynda's lips. "For all he knows, I'm dead. He either moved on already, or will wallow in self-pity for the rest of his miserable life."

"I was under the impression you loved your father."

"Oh yes, I do. I love that old fool. Which doesn't mean that he deserves it."

"I see," Aelphaba replied, although it was more than obvious that, in fact, she didn't.

Then Galynda began to cry again, harder than before. Aelphaba's embrace tightened, as she placed a light, cold kiss at her temple.

"Do you not miss your old home?" the blonde whispered in a hoarse voice after a little while had passed.

The taller woman took a deep breath, but didn't answer. Galynda freed herself from Aelphaba's arms, and rose to her feet.

"You always do this."

"Do what?"

Aelphaba blinked, looking quite confused.

"This. I tell you everything there is to know about me, but what do I know about you? You are like a closed book to me."

The taller woman's eyes narrowed.

"What secrets I share with you, is my choice alone."

"Secrets?" Galynda released an exasperated huff. "I don't expect you to unravel the great mystery that is the enigmatic Aelphaba of the Waterfall. I merely want to learn about that person that pretends to be my friend. I don't even know about such ridiculously simple things like you favourite food, or… or…"

"Grapes," Aelphaba deadpanned, while Galynda was still searching for words.

Despite herself, the blonde couldn't suppress a small giggle. Turning around, she realised that Aelphaba was on her way out.

"Wait, where are you- where for Lurline's sake are you going?"

Aelphaba gave a flurry of long fingers as a way of saying goodbye. Galynda was positively furious now.

"Aelphaba!"

She made to chase after her, but even before she could catch as much as a glimpse of her friend, she heard a loud splash, which meant that she was already gone. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks. What was that mean woman thinking leaving her alone like this? Snuffling, and her arms tightly wrapped around her midsection, she stalked back to the waterfall chamber.

With a sigh, she dropped onto the bed pile, shoving a grape she had picked up on her way in in her mouth. What would she do with the rest of the day? All alone? She moodily picked at the hay, drawing a long haulm. She considered it, twirling it between her fingers. In the end, she decided that they had more than enough of this stuff anyway, and grabbed a good hand full, and began braiding it. Once she had finished a several feet long plait by adding more and more hay as she went along, she curled it up, and shaped it, using more hay to tie everything together. The end product was a small basket. She smiled at her handiwork, and placed it on the stone that so far had served as a platter for the grapes and other snacks Aelphaba brought back for her. There. A nice fruit basket. It made the place look a little homier already.

Galynda let her gaze wander across the room. There was still a lot of work to be done. If she were to stay here for an extended period, this barren interior would simply not do. Without any more materials, there was nothing more she could add at the moment, but there was a pile of dusty, old bags in the corner that had annoyed her long enough already. She could make a start by cleaning up this mess. However, the daylight was fading already; she would have to make a fire first.

After a fierce struggle with the flint and steel, she had finally succeeded in conjuring a decent fire, which meant that she could now devoted her attention to more important matters. She hesitated before loosening the string that sealed the first jute sack, at least marginally concerned about intruding in Aelphaba's privacy. Naturally, her reluctance didn't last very long.

At first she was almost disappointed. What she found in the bags seemed to be nothing of any use, or worth. As she fished out a moth-eaten blanket (for colder nights she supposed, yet she herself would rather freeze than use this grubby rag) and a broken cup, she doubted that there was much sentimental value to them either. She wrinkled her nose, and groaned softly. At least she would be able to discard this rubbish, and get rid of this ugly sight. She was tempted to toss out the second bag before even inspecting it, but imagined Aelphaba's anger if she accidentally disposed of something important. Gingerly, she opened the rope, apprehensive of what might be waiting for her. She discovered another blanket – in a worse state than the first one even, however, neatly folded. She lifted the sack to tip it upside down so she didn't have to touch anything. The thing was surprisingly heavy. The blanket dropped to the floor like a stone. Her curiosity piqued, Galynda used the tips of her fingernails to unfold the tattered cloth.

Her mouth dropped open when she uncovered a large, thick book, bound in leather, and decorated with gold leaf. Although she had no idea what exactly this was, it most certainly was a costly object, and she wondered why Aelphaba was in the possession of something like this. It was a pity that the pages were a bit wavy, probably from the humidity in the cave, or from the dive when Aelphaba had first brought the book here. The rest of it still looked impeccable though. She let her finger glide over the book's spine. There was no title, or description of any sort, only ornamental embossments and flourishes. Wondering whether she would find more information inside, she opened the cover.

"Hey, I'm back," Aelphaba announced her presence, causing Galynda's hands to shoot up in the air in surprise. "Galynda, listen. I-"

The tall woman paused.

"What do you have there?"

The blonde looked down at her lap where the book was still lying, then back up, and straight into Aelphaba's eyes. Her face was unreadable, impossible to decipher. Perhaps, poking her nose into those old bags had been a bad idea after all.

"I… I was trying to clean up," was her feeble attempt at explaining the situation, guilt lacing her nearly mumbled words. "I didn't mean to… I don't know… I didn't assume I'd find anything you wouldn't want me to see."

"It's not like that," Aelphaba croaked, and immediately cleared her voice to rid herself of the lump in her throat.

She walked towards Galynda, squatting next to her, pastel green eyes trained on the mysterious book. She seemed anxious, similar to the way she always did when Galynda asked her something personal, but at least hundred times worse. The blonde couldn't stand the tense silence.

"Aelphaba, what is this?"

"This," the other woman said slowly, carefully taking the book from Galynda's hands, and tracing the embossed scrollwork with a slender finger, "is the Grimmerie. A book of spells, and all sorts of things numinous."

"Why is it here? You didn't just find it buried in the woods, did you?"

"No. I had it with me on the day…"

The Gillikinese's brows furrowed, then comprehension hit her.

"The day you… you came here," she finished for her. Aelphaba nodded.

"I..."

The tall woman inhaled and exhaled deeply, and briefly closed her eyes. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable in her current position, she decided to sit instead.

"Several ye- a while ago, I came here, this book in my satchel. It was given to me by a traveller who stayed at our – that's me and my father's – house for a night, or two. He didn't have anything else to give us, so he somehow gave me this. Said he had no use for it. I was young, curious. Naïve. Perhaps I should have left my hands off it. Then again, I suppose it saved me."

"Saved you?"

"Well, my betrothed was about as jealous as they come."

"Was?"

Aelphaba sent Galynda a stern look. The blonde realised that her unique chance to finally learn something about her friend was in jeopardy, and bit her lip, trying to signal that she would hold her tongue from now on. Drawing a heavy breath, and averting her gaze, the dark-haired woman continued.

"You see, I was born in a time of severe drought. Boys were considered more valuable, so parents channelled all their resources into their sons. Many little girls didn't make it past their next birthday. My father was different. He was clever in a way. Clever enough to see the consequences. He knew that there would be a shortage of young women in the future, and so he chose me over my brothers. His plan was successful. I survived, and since I was one of the few women left in this village, he raked in a lot of land and livestock as bride token when the mayor's son and I got engaged.

"As I said, my intended was fiercely protective, jealous, suspicious; the fact that I had cost his father a fortune did not help the matter. I couldn't talk to anybody who wasn't my father, or him. He even distrusted his own brother whenever he happened to cross my path. Imagine that in a village with such a surplus of men. I spent most of my time locked in my room. I was only allowed outside under his supervision. It was near impossible to bear. I disappeared whenever the opportunity presented itself. I wish I could have simply run away for good, but I feared the repercussions this might have for my father. Sometimes I managed to crawl back into my bed a few hours later without anyone noticing; sometimes my father found out, and chastised me. Sometimes he found out, and struck me to teach me a lesson. This usually didn't happen, so I wasn't really deterred.

"One day when the warm sun shining into my small room was all too tempting, I climbed out of my window, and took off, this book in my satchel. I had received it a couple of days prior, and was eager to study it. I came to this clearing, thinking it was far enough from my village, and far enough from any path regularly used by merchants, pilgrims and other traveling folk. The problem was, my betrothed had watched me leave the house, and followed me. He… confronted me. I was sitting on one of the boulders, letting my feet dangle in the water when he approached me, screaming. He was convinced that I was waiting for someone. That I was going to betray him.

"He got very angry. Apoplectic with rage, to be concise. He said that he could no longer wait and risk me running away with someone else, or… well, you know… He…"

Shaking her head, Aelphaba fell silent. Galynda reached out to comfortingly pat her cold arm. The pale woman smiled fleetingly, and swallowed hard.

"I think my curiosity is quite satisfied for now," Galynda said in her most soothing tone of voice. "You don't have to talk about this."

Aelphaba barked a miserable laughter.

"You asked for it. And maybe you're right. Maybe you should know."

"All right," the petite blonde nodded solemnly.

She doubted that she truly wanted to hear the end to this tale, but she was no longer listening for her own curiosity, or entertainment. This was about Aelphaba now, and after being quiet for so long, it seemed like she was in dire need of some relief.

"Tell me," Galynda said, gathering her own courage, only able to venture the vaguest guess at how her friend must be feeling this very moment. "As much as you are prepared to share."

The corners of Aelphaba's lips twitched slightly upwards once again – a flash of gratitude.

"Well…" She coughed slightly to clear her voice. "After 'making me his,' as he had called it, he seemed satisfied at first, but I suppose I wasn't sufficiently subdued by his treatment. He got mad again, and he drew his dagger. He lunged forward, but I grabbed the book that had been left lying in the grass. It absorbed the blow, suffering not even a scratch. The strangest sensation was cursing through my body, like the current of a raging river. My mind went blank; all I saw was white. I have no recollection whatsoever of what happened next, but when I finally regained my conscience, he was dead, his own knife stuck deep in his chest."

Galynda's hands flew to her mouth. She knew this might not be the best reaction, but she couldn't help it. Aelphaba held her gaze for a brief moment. At the Gillikinese's apologetic look, she shook her head, and reassuringly patted her arm. Galynda felt incompetent. She was supposed to be the one comforting her friend, not the other way around.

"Anyway, I didn't know what to do, or where to go. I couldn't possibly return to my village. No one would have believed in my innocence – not even I truly did. Yet I still wasn't ready to take responsibility for a murder I had neither planned, nor consciously committed. In addition, I hung onto the frail hope that it hadn't been my fault after all. I tried to run. I can't remember taking any turns, or ever turning around, but when I stepped out of the thicket of the forest and into the light, I was horrified when I realised that I had come back to the very same clearing the disaster had struck. I tried several more times, each time running into a different direction. But all attempts led to the same result. So I fell to my knees, crying. The tears didn't bring him back, of course.

"I don't know how long I had been sitting there, but eventually, people began searching for us. I could hear their calls echo through the wood. Every time I heard them shout his name, a shiver ran down my spine. After hours and hours, the voices came closer. I knew they were no more than a few yards away. Another voice began to mingle with those of the village's men's. It was the water, whispering to me. It was calling me, and I thought it must be my subconscious, telling me to jump and drown, rather than facing the shame and condemnation. I was afraid, but I picked up the book, not wanting to risk it hurting anyone else. Then I jumped, eyes squeezed shut, and arms tightly wrapped around the thick tome to keep me from swimming back to the surface. I swallowed water – intentionally, and I lost conscience.

"When I awoke, it was cold and dark around me. I remember thinking that this was not how I had imagined hell to look like, but it soon turned out that I was very much alive, washed up in the same section of the cave where I pulled you out of the water as well. For a few days, I wouldn't leave my hideout, afraid of the world as well as myself. After that I tried. I walked away from the clearing; one, two miles… after that I grew weaker with every step. My condition improved as soon as I was back in my cave. This hasn't changed since, which means that I'm not physically able to leave the area. For a long time, I spent day and night, frantically studying the Grimmerie, desperate to find a way out of here. I learnt quite a few things about it, but I found nothing that could free me from the bond that ties me to this pool. At some point, I lost hope and gave up."

When Aelphaba glanced up at the smaller woman, the petite Gillikinese was lost for words. Big tears were rolling down her face, and she was breathing heavily.

"Oh, don't cry Galynda!" Aelphaba exclaimed, and wrapped her arms around the blonde, leaning close, so that their foreheads touched.

They sat like this for a little while, Galynda's sniffling being the only sound that broke the silence.

"You must never give up," she hiccupped at last, swallowing the phlegm in her throat, and attempting a watery smile. "You must try again, and then we will leave this place together."

"Together?" Aelphaba questioned with raised eyebrows.

Galynda rested her head against the taller woman's chest, and freed her arms, so she could return the embrace.

"You are my friend now, Aelphaba. I won't leave you behind so easily."

Aelphaba laughed somewhat incredulously, then paused.

"It's not that easy," she sighed with a sad smile. "This isn't an ordinary spell book. Look."

She released the blonde, so she could open the book at a page she chose at random.

"I can only make out a line here, or there," she explained. "Do you see how the letters scramble, and rearrange before your very eyes? The moment you read a word, it breaks apart, or disappears completely. I have tried my hardest for quite a while, but it seems like the book chooses what it will reveal to the reader, and when."

Though the predicament was undeniable, Galynda was not willing to accept that Aelphaba's fate was unchangeable. When the dark-haired women closed the book to put it aside, she reached for it, and opened it again.

"Then we will just have to keep looking. How do you know that, one day, the book won't be in the right mood to show you a way out of here?"

Aelphaba peered at the Grimmerie, then into Galynda's bright eyes.

"You're impossible," she snorted, but smiled.

Galynda watched her mutely, for the first time seeing her friend through different eyes. Understanding her and her conundrum changed everything. She appreciated the trust that had been placed in her. She felt more connected with Aelphaba now, and above everything else, she had realised, how deeply she actually cared for her. Suddenly, she wasn't at all sure anymore, whether she would be able to ever leave this cave without Aelphaba, even if that meant a life in absolute isolation from the rest of the world. Was the spell, or whatever it was that bound the pale woman to this place rubbing off on her? Or was this a spell of an entirely different kind; perhaps not quite supernatural, but most certainly no less magical. Licking her lips, Galynda hesitantly leaned closer, her heart beating violently against her ribs in anticipation .

Aelphaba closed the book with a loud snap, and stood, placing the tome on one of the stone slabs.

"Right. Well, you convinced me. I'll try, but I can't make any promises. You better don't place too much hope in this, or it will only leave you disappointed."

The blonde blinked, slightly disorientated at first. She forced a smile, then drew a quick breath to collect her muddled thoughts.

"I will help. Two pairs of eyes might be able to see more than one."

Shaking her head in disbelieve, Aelphaba fluffed up the hay to prepare the bed.

"I don't deserve you. Now come. It's time to sleep."

She lay down, lifting her arm invitingly, so Galynda could snuggle close to her, as it had become their way. This time, the Gillikinese hesitated for a clock tick, but as soon as she caught herself staring at Aelphaba, she willed herself to move forward. She didn't want to send the wrong message. Once they had arranged themselves as usual, Aelphaba fell asleep quickly. Galynda was not so lucky. Her head was reeling, trying to process what she had learnt that evening - about her friend, and about herself.


	5. Entanglements

_**AN:**_

 _Ok, this is a friendly reminder that this story is (high?) T-rathed (kind of) Gelphie, and contains some mild adult content involving two female characters... Just in case you slept until now, or forgot ;)_

 _Not much else to say, so:_

 _Happy reading! :D_

* * *

 **Entanglements**

Over the days that followed, Galynda spent most of her time poring over the Grimmerie. Aelphaba also did her best searching for a solution, however, the two women had soon discovered that the blonde Gillikinese seemed to have more of a talent for deciphering the obstinate book. The fact that she had found out more about its content in the past week than Aelphaba had in… well, a much longer period of time, gave her hope and spurred her on. She was determined to free her friend from her confinement, so she kept on reading until her eyes began to water and burn from the strain. It was a tricky business keeping such side effects from Aelphaba, who would otherwise only have protested. Luckily, Galynda was a proficient actor, and successfully made light of her fatigue whenever the other woman pointed out a puffy eye, or dark circle underneath.

The sound of little pebbles being kicked, and rolling over the floor of the cave alerted Galynda to Aelphaba's approach. She was doing this these days, after Galynda had told her off for always sneaking up on her. She put the heavy tome aside, and rose to her feet to greet her.

"Found anything interesting?"

"That depends on how you define _'interesting.'_ " Galynda sighed. Have I found a way to get you out of here? No, unfortunately not yet. Have I discovered a new way of lighting the room without you having to collect, and dry firewood all the time? Watch this:"

She made an elaborate movement with her hand, murmuring a few foreign words, and a blue flame flared up on the palm of her bare hand. For a clock-tick or two, Aelphaba stared at her with halted breath.

"Impressive."

She slowly walked up to the blonde, never breaking their intense eye contact. Then, she tenderly took the dainty hand in her own, and closed it to a fist.

"But be careful with these sort of things. We don't know what else might happen."

Nodding, Galynda distinguished what was left of the magical fire. She watched the other woman as she unpacked a small cloth bag she couldn't remember seeing before.

"What's this?" she asked, an elegant eyebrow arched. "You plundered someone's pantry, and stole their supplies?"

Aelphaba cast a brief glance over her shoulder before turning her attention back towards the cheese she was about to cut in finger-sized wedges.

"I wouldn't call it stealing," she muttered bashfully.

"Then what would you call it?"

"A dole of food?"

Galynda wasn't convinced. She was annoyed at first, but then her anger subsided, and her heart melted just a little. She crossed the room, and sunk to her knees beside the taller woman, resting her hands on her shoulders.

"I know you wouldn't do this to feed yourself. I appreciate your good intentions, but you shouldn't do this for me either. You live off the grapes, and so can I."

"You hate them," Aelphaba retorted.

Galynda pursed her lips.

"They are quite good with cheese," she countered, but Aelphaba only smirked at that, knowing she had won. "Fine!" the blonde exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air as she rose to her feet.

She went to wrap up the Grimmerie, and put it away properly so it wouldn't suffer any more damage from the humid air.

"But still: no more stealing."

Aelphaba shook her head.

"I already told you."

Galynda turned, undecided on whether she should give in, or pursue the argument. When she saw her friend on her way out again, she was alarmed.

"Only fetching my own dinner," Aelphaba assured her quietly.

The Gillikinese took a relieved breath. A second later, she called out to her.

"Aelphaba? I'm not mad, you know? I hope you aren't mad at me either. I… I love you."

There they were, these three words she had admitted only to her self until then; finally out in the open. What a clumsy confession this had been, so decidedly dispassionate. Galynda felt rather disappointed in herself, but figured it didn't matter anymore. What had been said, had been said. Aelphaba turned, and offered her a sincere smile.

"I know. I love you, too. I'll be back in no time."

Galynda found herself absolutely dumbfounded. Quite sure that Aelphaba's words and hers did not convey the same sentiment, she aimed a frustrated kick at a small stone, and missed. Was her friend genuinely this oblivious to her developing feelings for her, or was she just good playing at being so? No, she wasn't. Not Aelphaba.

Later, when they sat by the fire to consume their dinner – which in Galynda's case was a small feast by current standards – the shorter woman considered her opposite wistfully. Aelphaba was truly beautiful in an exotic, unconventional sense, and their newfound familiarity made approaching her on a deeply personal level seem so much less intimidating. There was an entirely different level of trust between them now. The blonde shifted slightly, and licked her lips, wondering where to start such a conversation. Aelphaba caught her somewhat off guard, when she was the first to speak.

"I'm very grateful that you're here with me, Galynda. Although I know that the circumstances under which you joined me weren't exactly voluntary, I appreciate you staying as long as you did. That's why I try to offer you whatever minute comfort I can."

Blushing, and her heart skipping a beat, Galynda smiled back at her stupidly. Aelphaba didn't appear to notice, as she continued to focus on her folded hands in her lap.

"You're still free to leave whenever you want, of course," she added hastily, perhaps misinterpreting the long silence. This immediately caused Galynda to plummet from her fluffy, pink cloud.

"Oh! No. I'm staying. I mean, we'll try and find a way to release you from this spell, right? But until then – or in the event that we don't succeed… I… I don't think I could simply leave you behind."

Aelphaba looked up now, her expression adorably flustered.

"Thank you. Really," she said softly, and swallowed. "You're the friend I never dared to wish for ever since I came here."

Galynda's stomach dropped, and suddenly, she had to struggle to keep her smile in place. Hearing Aelphaba's confession, though the words were spoken with the most heartfelt affection, she suddenly felt nauseous. She realised that she couldn't risk revealing what precisely she thought their relationship could be. There surely was a very slim chance that her feelings were reciprocated, but the possible consequences if this wasn't the case were too severe. Whether at Aelphaba's specific request, or because of the dreadfully awkward atmosphere such an admission might generate, it was likely that Galynda would have to leave, which would cost them both dearly.

"I'm done," Galynda announced after barely finishing two slices of cheese and a couple of grapes, making a point of acting markedly nonchalant. "I think I, um, need to use the facilities," she excused herself, and left their living quarters for some alone time.

Walking along the narrow passageway towards the entry of the cave, she had no idea where she was headed. She chose the next best, up until then unexplored path branching off to the side, and went to have a look. About four, five paces into the tunnel, the light became sparse, until it was entirely gone just two more steps later. Galynda contemplated doubling back, however, she was not yet ready to return and face Aelphaba. Simply to keep her mind occupied, and form brooding over her foul mood, she pushed on, both hands firmly pressed to either side of the rock walls, and feet carefully sliding across the floor. She came to a bend, which explained the total lack of light. As soon as she turned left, the darkness alleviated slightly.

Even before she stepped out of the pitch-black section of the passage into the twilight, her fingers detected regular patterns in the stone. When her eyes were finally able to help her tactile sense to investigate her environment, she realised that the markings were vertical strokes, organised into sets of five, like some sort of tally. The entire wall was littered with them. Galynda's eyes narrowed. Who had carved these figures, and for what purpose? In some of the stories she had read, prisoners had used this kind of system to keep track of the days they had spent in captivity. Such a theory would point towards Aelphaba, if it weren't for the sheer number of strokes, which appeared to indicate no less than several decades of detention. This couldn't be, could it? Unless she had counted the hours - but how would she even be able to tell? Thinking about all this made the blonde's head spin, and the possible implications were so eerie, they sent series of shivers down her spine. With one last glance around, she decided to leave this place before the speculations drove her mad. Most likely, she was overthinking this. If and when the opportunity presented itself, she would ask Aelphaba, who would surely be able to put her mind at ease.

Once she had made her way back out of the small tunnel, she padded along the more familiar path until she ended up at the pool. Staring at the placid water, she sensed an awful feeling of claustrophobia slowly spreading within her. Her feelings, her suspicions, her fears all paired up with the anxiety that her constricted lifestyle had built up over the period of her stay with Aelphaba. Plunging into the cool water somehow seemed less daunting now than ever before. It promised the freedom Galynda had previously not thought she would need – at least not at the cost of another near-death experience. A toe was gingerly dipped into the pool, but retracted almost immediately. The water was colder than she had anticipated. Still, she pulled her chemise over hear head. The air was just a little chilly, causing tiny goose bumps to spread all over her delicate skin. She couldn't believe she was really going to do this. Hesitantly, she folded the piece of clothing, and placed it where she hoped it would stay dry. Then she jumped.

The unpleasant water temperature caused her muscles to stiffen, making any movement extremely difficult. She forced her eyes open. Rowing with her arms almost in slow motion, she hadn't gotten very far yet. There was a circle of light, far down, near the bottom. With great dismay, she realised that it would be impossible for her to reach. She resurfaced, taking a big gulp of air as she did so. Irritated, she paddled towards the edge of the pool.

"Need help?"

Her head whipped around in search for the woman that belonged to the voice that had spoken to her. Her wide eyes found Aelphaba perched on a rock, knees drawn up to her chest, her long arms wrapped around her legs. Blushing fiercely, she reluctantly climbed out of the water.

"I meant what I said earlier. You are free to leave any time. All you need is ask, and I'll help you. There's no need to sneak away silently, and drown during an absolutely pointless escape manoeuvre."

The sadness of her friend's voice almost broke Galynda's heart. She hadn't thought about how Aelphaba would interpret her attempt to leave the cave – she hadn't even expected her to notice. Which had been ill-considered, in hindsight.

"I… wasn't trying to escape," she almost stuttered, self-consciously keeping her gaze glued to her own feet, and her arms covering her chest, legs crossed awkwardly. "I was merely hoping to have a bit of a walk, or something."

Aelphaba averted her eyes, and stood, wrapping her arms around her willowy frame for support.

"The only time you will ever dive trough this tunnel again is the day you leave this place for good. These were your words."

Galynda winced. There was no use denying this.

"Well, I changed my mind. It happens. Look-" She pointed at her discarded underwear. "-I probably would have taken this if I truly intended not to return, don't you think?"

For an awfully long moment, the tall woman seemed to consider this scenario. When she looked back from the pile of clothing to the Gillikinese, Galynda caught her biting her lower lip as she peeked up. Despite the heat flooding her entire naked body, she trembled. Aelphaba's arms hesitantly unwound, and she offered a hand to the baffled blonde.

"Do you still feel like having a walk?"

Instead of an answer, Galynda gave Aelphaba her own hand in reply, trying to ignore the strange feeling of being fully exposed before her friend. It would wear off eventually, right? The other woman squeezed her small hand briefly, and flicked her a shy smile.

"Ready?"

The blonde was tense, but nodded her consent. She held her breath, and steeled herself for a second dive. Using her free hand, Aelphaba discard the cloth draped around her chest, and took a step forward, her arm wrapping around Galynda's waist as she did so. Another step, and they were engulfed by water.

Rather surprisingly, their dive through the underwater exit of the cave wasn't half as scary as it had been the first time around, and the first thought that came to the blonde's mind was that she should have tried this much earlier. It was a matter of trust, she supposed, and preparation. Of course it also helped that they could swim directly to the surface this time, since there was no need to hide. Aelphaba helped her, and made sure she was securely back on dry land, but made no move to climb out herself.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

Galynda considered her, pouting.

"Would you mind walking with me?" she asked. "I'm not too keen on getting lost."

After thinking the offer over, Aelphaba slowly pulled herself out of the water. Then, the two women stood there in silence – Aelphaba bashfully casting Galynda fleeting glances, the blonde blatantly staring back at her.

"You have no right to be all timid," Galynda laughed at last, confidently looping her arm through Aelphaba's. "You put me through this the moment we met, so payback is fair game."

Aelphaba chuckled at that, and turned her head to give her friend a proper once over, her gaze lingering once their eyes met. They both blushed, and looked away, despite their best intensions to act casual.

"So, um," the taller woman cleared her voice, "where to?"

Galynda let her eyes roam, thoughtfully. It wasn't like she knew the area. When she turned westward, her brow furrowed. The sky was already laced with a tinge of pink.

"Do you think it could already be too late for our little excursion?"

"That depends," Aelphaba replied shrugging her shoulders. "Did you merely want to stretch your legs, or actually admire the beauty of the landscape? The forest here is pretty dense, and therefore pretty dark at any rate, even by day."

Scowling a little the Gillikinese muttered, "You really could have told me that earlier."

"Well… does that mean we head back now?"

Galynda blinked, her expression mortified.

"What? No!"

"All right." Aelphaba held up her hands in surrender, hoping to appease the shorter woman. "I just thought-"

"I jumped into the cold water, risking my life. The least I can expect for my efforts is a nice sunset."

She marched off in search for a good spot to sit down, and found the stem of a fallen rushwood near the treeline. Instead of using the log as a bench, she plopped down into the grass, and rested her back against the wood. She patted the empty space next to her, offering Aelphaba a wide, cheerful grin. Obediently, the taller woman sat down where she was supposed to.

After an awkward wait of several long minutes, the sun finally kissed the trees, dipping their upmost branches in gold. As the sunset reached its climax, the multi-coloured light fell into the clearing, painting the pool, the grass, and the two women in shades of amber, mauve and purple.

Galynda sighed, content.

"I don't think I could ever grow tired of watching the sun set in the evening. It's absolutely magical, don't you think?"

Aelphaba gave her a sceptical side-glance before adding a non-committal shrug.

"Well, it's pretty, but that's all I can say to be honest. I suppose, it's because I have already witnessed too many sunsets to still be truly mesmerised by them."

This seemingly offhand remark had Galynda stunned. She remembered the markings she had discovered in the cave, and her breath caught in her throat. She hoped Aelphaba hadn't noticed.

"And exactly how many times have you watched the sun go down?" she asked, carefully curious.

Aelphaba stiffened, and Galynda's expectations to receive an answer dropped to near zero. But to her surprise, Aelphaba began to chuckle.

"I couldn't possibly recall." At the blonde's imploring look, she countered, "What? Could _you_?"

"No… I suppose…"

Galynda saw right through this display of light-heartedness. Aelphaba was a terrible liar. Mouth dry, Galynda tried to make a quick decision. This was her chance to spill all those questions in her head - but should she?

"Have you ever found any evidence that you might not be the first human being to inhabit that cave?"

"I don't think so," the other woman replied, either wary, or confused – Galynda couldn't quite tell. She decided to stake everything on one card."

"Was it you then? The tally."

"What are you- Oh…"

If she hadn't already been so extremely pale, Galynda was sure Aelphaba would have turned white as a sheet, for she positively looked as though she had seen a ghost. The initial shock was soon replaced with stoic silence.

Sweet Lurline. Now that it had come to this, her wildest fantasies confirmed, the blonde was at a loss herself. She folded her hands to rest her chin on them in a thoughtful manner. From the corner of her eyes, she hazarded a glimpse at her friend.

"There is no point in holding back now, is there?"

Aelphaba swallowed hard.

"I couldn't tell you how long it has been if I wanted to. I lost track a long time ago."

The way she was talking, she was still in passive mode.

"Do you remember how far you got?"

"Not clearly. Sixty-something years, I think?"

"Oh Aelphaba!"

Releasing a shuddering cry, Galynda flung her arms around the dark-haired woman, almost crushing her. Her reaction surprised both of them, but as soon as she felt Aelphaba collapse into her embrace, breaking into silent tears, she knew that she was glad she couldn't take it back. Her arms relaxed a little, and her right hand began to draw soothing patterns all over Aelphaba's bare back.

The pale woman's sniffles and tears stopped abruptly, and she quickly detached herself from the Gillikinese.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice still unsteady, despite her best efforts to sound austere. "You shouldn't-"

She was cut off by Galynda's mouth, firmly pressed against hers. Galynda couldn't see her astonished expression, since her eyes were closed. All she knew were cold, yet soft lips, which slowly, and very reluctantly began to melt into the kiss. One of her hands reached up, tangling itself in long, smooth hair, the other drifted further down to the small of Aelphaba's back to keep her in place, or draw her even closer if she would allow it. She did, and their bodies touched, sending a wave of heat through the shorter woman. Aelphaba shivered, which led Galynda to believe that their closeness had a similar effect on her friend, as it had on her – bar the heat, of course.

Aelphaba broke away.

"I don't understand," she choked out breathlessly, hands resting against Galynda's shoulders to create some space between them.

Galynda barely did herself, and she most certainly could not explain. So she simply shook her head, and once more lunged forward to capture her opposite's lips. This time, Aelphaba surrendered unconditionally.

After spending a significant amount of time altering between long, sensual kisses, small, playful pecks and deep, fervent osculation, their mouths separated. Aelphaba leaned down to rest her forehead against the Gillikinese, then their noses touched in tender caresses. Through half-closed lids, Galynda watched her own fingers trail down the delicate column of Aelphaba's neck, all the way to her collarbone. There it lingered, and the blonde drew a shallow breath.

"May I?"

She looked up with big, glowing eyes, hoping for a permission. Aelphaba returned her gaze, questions written all over her beautiful face. The blonde smiled, then tore her eyes from Aelphaba's to kiss her – first on her lips, then following the same path her fingers had taken. She dared to move slightly further than before. After a last, tender kiss to alabaster skin, she looked up again, expectantly. The smirk on the other woman's lips was divine.

"May I?" she repeated her inquiry.

"Mmhm… That depends." Aelphaba's grin widened as she cupped Galynda's cheek. Her free hand copied the blonde's actions. "Can _I_?"

Flashing a coy smile, Galynda nodded, and as their mouths came together ravenously, their equally eager hands began to explore hitherto unknown territory. It was an overwhelming sensation for Galynda to feel another's fingers all over her body; so entirely different to when she touched herself, whether for the purpose of her daily beauty routines, or in quest of pleasure. Not to mention the bizarre, yet strangely enjoyable interplay of Aelphaba's cold hands on her own hot skin, and her own warm fingers grazing the taller woman's cool exterior. Aelphaba's lips were no longer cold though, the blonde noticed belatedly when she felt her friend – no, her love – nibbling at the crook of her neck. Amazed by the change, she decided to see how far she could take this. Her new goal was to feel Aelphaba's body hot (or at the very least somewhat lukewarm) in her arms by the end of the night, no matter how much effort it would take.

Only the stars and the moon witnessed the two women's sighs and moans growing louder as they discovered an ecstasy, only to be found in a lover's embrace. Barely any words were exchanged, which was fine with Galynda, but she was worried about Aelphaba, especially when she, with horror, realised the terrible choice of location in respect to Aelphaba's past. She tried to ask if she was all right, but the other woman quickly shushed her, as she placed butterfly kisses along the invisible line from her navel to her sex. Doubts assuaged, or rather forgotten in the rush of heat and passion, the petite blonde arched her back, Aelphaba's name tumbling off her swollen lips.

Much later, Galynda found herself snuggled close to Aelphaba, her head resting against her bosom like a cushion. She was spent, thoroughly sated. In this very moment, there was nothing in this world she still desired, for it felt like she had all she needed right beside her. And the body beside her felt warm. Not only tepid, but bordering on burning, much like her own. She serenely smiled to herself, wondering what it might feel like to Aelphaba, but didn't dare to ask. She wasn't prepared to tarnish their shared bliss with talk that could make her love uncomfortable.

Aelphaba's long fingers began to lazily roam through golden curls. Her lips pressed against her forehead. Then, Galynda's ears caught the sound of quiet whimpering. She wriggled around to push herself up on her elbows, facing Aelphaba, eyes wide in alarm, and her earlier fears revived. Aelphaba met her gaze briefly before hiding her tearstained face behind a curtain of silky waves.

"You must leave," the taller woman muttered eventually, her voice thick.

Galynda could feel the blood drain from her face.

"Never!" she protested, her own eyes beginning to water, and her stomach flipping upside down. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I - If what I did was wrong, if I hurt you… please forgive me, I didn't mean to." Her heart racing, and her entire body trembling, she grasped Aelphaba's hand, kissing it with a fervour that could only be described as desperation. "I'll make it up to you. I can behave. No more kissing, or touching if you hate it so much… It will be like before, I promise. Just-" She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could continue. "-don't send me away."

It took Aelphaba an awfully long time to reply. Struggling a little, she sat up, her eyes still fixed to the ground.

"It's not that," she croaked. "You have a radiant personality, and your affection is more than I deserve. I'm grateful you were so generous to share it with me. Only this bond between you and I was doomed from the start. I should not drag you down with me by holding on to such an ill-fated relationship."

Tears flooded Galynda's eyes, running down her cheeks in wild torrents. If it wasn't her fault, if she hadn't hurt her love, she couldn't possibly accept her decision to end what had barely just started, what she had longed for so greatly.

"No, no, no!" She jumped at Aelphaba, fiercely wrapping her arms around her, and kissing whatever inch of skin she could reach. "Remember? We have the book. We will find a way."

"No we won't." Aelphaba shook her head, peeling herself away from Galynda, face buried in her hands. "Not in your lifetime, and that's my point. You will continue your life as normal, but I will not. I will stay like this forever until the spell is broken, and I doubt this will ever happen. I can't allow you to waste your life like this. This – _us_ \- is not meant to be."

Galynda's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Well, how exactly do you propose I _should_ waste my life then? I have not the slightest clue how to return to my old home, and the person I love is right here, so the choice appears to be quite simple, really."

"It's not!"

Stunned, the Gillikinese stared at the other woman.

"I lied to you," Aelphaba admitted.

The shame and guilt were clearly evident in her pastel green eyes, however, Galynda still found it hard to believe this. Aelphaba's abilities at deception were lacking – she had already established that.

"You don't believe me," the taller woman scoffed. "Well, I did. Not by fabrication, but by omission. It's still a lie, and unforgiveable."

Galynda caught her gaze, and held it. Perhaps she could believe that much.

"Well… what was it about?" she asked hesitantly, watching Aelphaba with halted breath.

"The food. It wasn't stolen. But I already told you that. What I didn't tell you was how I obtained it."

That was more than confusing. They were about to break up, because Aelphaba had withheld information about how she had gotten her hands on Galynda's dinner? Wrinkling her brow, she waited for the dark-haired woman to expand on her odd story.

"I ventured further than usual in search of something edible that wasn't grapes." She gave the faintest of smiles. Galynda almost missed it. "There is a village I knew about. I never considered going there before, but I figured it was worth a try. The first time I went was in the middle of the night, but I was discovered. The strangest thing happened: The Munchkin who had caught me went from house to house to wake the others. They surrounded me, but they weren't hostile; they stared at me in wonder, and insisted I was some sort of miracle. I didn't dare to disagree. After that, I returned several times. I didn't even ask for food, they just gave it to me. They tried to give me so much more, only I couldn't possibly accept."

"Fine…" the blonde said slowly. "So the food wasn't stolen, and you have made a bunch of little friends…. Granted, that's a lot to digest, but I think I can forgive-"

An exasperated sigh interrupted her.

"On my visits to the village, I met a group of traveling merchants. From Gillikin. They were passing through on their way back home."

Once the confession was out, Aelphaba lowered her eyes, unable to look Galynda in the eyes. The blonde's mouth fell open. For a clock tick, she was utterly speechless, but she quickly snapped out of it.

"So you mean to say that you knew a way for me to return home, but didn't tell me."

"I should have told you – I intended to, I swear. But you caught me off guard. When you discovered the Grimmerie. You gave me hope. False hope, I suppose, but that wasn't your fault.

"I'm back on track now. I'm prepared to let you go before either of us suffers too much. I'm sure that you'll be able to find the merchants and a way home. I'll be glad to know you safe."


	6. Vulnerable Hearts

**_AN:_**

 _Hey guys! New Chapter!_

 _That was kinda quick, but I have to warn you - gotta start working on my uni stuff now, so the last few updates might take a bit. Also: I originally said this story would be no longer than 6 chapters. Screw this! This already IS chapter six, and well, it's not the last one... There won't be too much more, but I'm over making predictions that won't really hold true anyway lol_

 _So yeah..._

 _Happy reading! :D_

* * *

 **Vulnerable Hearts**

Galynda jumped to her feet, her blood rushing to her head, as her emotions flared up like a wave of fire. Her entire girlhood she had been the perfectly obedient daughter, however, so far from home, she was through with allowing others to decide over her life and happiness.

"But _I'm_ not prepared to let go of _you_!" she yelled. "Forget Gillikin, forget my father; none of that matters anymore, none of that is _real_ anymore. I have _you_ now, and that's all that counts. You are my new reality."

The anger and desperation stole her breath away, and had her chest heaving while she stared down at Aelphaba, waiting for a response. This was like a test of sorts, she told herself, to see whether she was prepared for the uncertain future awaiting the pair. She was confident that she could change her love's mind if she only demonstrated her determination and dedication.

"Well? Are we heading back now?" she prompted bolshily when the wait for Aelphaba's reaction became too much for her to bear.

The taller woman shifted her weight a couple of times before finally staggering to her feet. She stood before Galynda, her gaze eerily vacant.

"Come," the blonde said, despite how unnerved she felt looking into her love's empty eyes. She grasped her hand, and gave it a firm squeeze.

Although Aelphaba didn't reply, she allowed Galynda to lead her to the edge of the pool. From there, the Gillikinese didn't know what their next step should be - from where to jump into the water, or where exactly the entrance to the cave was located. In the dark of the night, she couldn't even recognise the spot where they had climbed ashore earlier. So she waited for Aelphaba to make her move, but the pale women remained hesitant.

Very slowly, Aelphaba turned to face Galynda. Drawing a shallow breath, she reached out, and brushed a golden curl behind her ear. Was this her attempt at reconciliation? Galynda smiled.

"Let's not wait here forever," she said, much gentler now. "Let's go home, and then we can discuss everything - or not, if you'd prefer that," she added when she noticed Aelphaba biting her lower lip. "I wouldn't mind just forgetting this argument ever happened. Especially in face of how wonderful this night has been up until then."

Her features vacuous, and as cold as her breath escaping into the night air, Aelphaba still leaned closer. The hand that had previously tucked away the strand of Galynda's hair now tenderly cupped the shorter woman's cheek. The gap between their faces was closed quickly, and cool lips brushed against warmer ones. Galynda felt a hint of disappointment at the all too transient effect she'd had on her love's body temperature, but the hope and joy that had begun to swell in her chest soon overshadowed any doubt, or discontent. The pale woman seemed to have discarded her initial impassiveness, and one kiss followed the other, until Galynda began to wonder how much of Aelphaba's affection she could possibly handle, having already had a full course of it less than an hour earlier. Was there such a thing as too much of a good thing when it came to love?

Just as they approached that ultimate tipping point, where Galynda knew that the desire would become uncontainable, and inevitably lead to more than fervent kisses, Aelphaba's mouth moved away from Galynda's, along her jawline. Her arms snaked around her neck, and down to the small of her back, holding her close. Then a pause. Her entire being once more set on fire by so much passion, Galynda suddenly felt almost hypothermic when it subsided, and a violent shudder overcame her.

"The village is very close," Aelphaba whispered in her ear. Another shiver. "Take the deer trail to the far right, and follow it until it crosses a little creek. Follow the creek downstream, and you'll find your destination. Tell the Munchkins _Aelphaba of the Waterfall_ sent you. They'll give you supplies, and point you in the right direction."

Galynda was so shocked, she barely remembered to breathe. Eyes wide, she remained stock still when Aelphaba pressed her lips against her cheek one last time.

"I'm sorry," the pale woman murmured, and Galynda caught a glimpse of a sparkling tear before she stepped away, and - with a small splash - disappeared into the black water.

For a moment, the Gillikinese stood like frozen in time, staring in wild disbelieve at the spot where she had last seen her lover. Then, she fell to her knees.

"Aelphaba!" she cried, yet other than the gentle licking of the calm waves there was no answer. "Aelphabaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Denial was the blonde's first reaction. This couldn't be happening. Aelphaba must be playing with her, and Galynda swore that she would pay her back with interest for this cruel game. She continued calling her name, even laughed, and listed what shenanigans she had in store for her if she didn't come to pick her up right this instant. This stage soon passed though, and big, salty tears replaced the frustrated huffs, and pouts. The calls persisted, albeit they were quieter now and weaker. Only when the sun of a new day climbed the sky, the realisation that Aelphaba would not come back for her began to truly sink in.

No matter how hopeless the outlook, Galynda didn't leave. She curled up beside the fallen rushwood log, her hazy gaze directed at the pool, and waited for something - anything at all - to happen. The lonely morning melted into an even lonelier midday, and by late afternoon, the blonde was trembling from the chill that had settled in her heart. Her love had abandoned her, and she felt utterly betrayed. She still loved Aelphaba, but intertwined with that love were now deep hurt, and resentment. Her stomach protested being neglected, but she didn't care to listen.

* * *

"Should get up from the ground, pretty thing, the nights are growing cold."

Galynda's eyelids fluttered open, and the blurry outline of an ancient, poorly dressed hag revealed itself. The blonde couldn't recall falling asleep, yet was barely surprised, as she still felt drained after all the crying and heartbreak – even after the short rest her body had claimed. She pushed herself to a sitting position, trying to blink away the dizziness and confusion.

"Who are you?" she murmured, squinting her tired eyes in hope it would help her see clearer.

She could make out a pack basket on her bent back, filled with foliage, and grass; in her hand she carried another basket, almost empty, safe for a handful of berries and mushrooms. She carried no lantern, however, which made Galynda wonder how she had found her way trough the darkness of the forest.

"Only an old travelling woman browsing the wood for supplies," the stranger finally answered, her voice rough and grating from the long years she had already lived. "The real question is: Who are you? Unescorted young Gillikinese noblewomen as yourself are a rare find in Munchkin forests."

"How do you even-"

"These eyes might be less bright than they used to be, but they are not quite blind yet. Golden curls, blue eyes, ivory skin, soft spoken; I know how to recognise a nob from my homelands if I encounter one. Quite a peculiar bunch they all are with their haughty looks, and impractical gowns." She paused to look Galynda over, amusement reflecting in her wizened features. "Although I see you have taken the idea of essential attire to another extreme."

Blushing, Galynda drew her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. The crone bared her crooked and foul teeth in a wide grin.

"Here, take this," she croaked, offering her a scratchy old blanket she had been using as cushioning between the basket and her hunched back.

"You… you are from Gillikin?" Galynda asked quietly, her eyes shyly glancing up and away again. "Are you one of the merchants who recently passed through a nearby village?"

"A merchant maybe, but I travel alone. I prefer my own company to that of others. But I might be willing to make an exception if you need a ride. My caravan is not far from here."

The younger woman's first instinct was to decline the proposal, but when she cast a longing glance at the waterfall on the other side of the pool, a little voice inside her head told her that she had nothing left worth staying for. Aelphaba could not be reasoned with once she had made up her mind. If there was any chance at all that she might reconsider, an entire day should have been enough for her to do so. Hearing her nightly screams must have been the toughest test for Aelphaba, the blonde supposed. Once quiet had returned to the clearing, she probably had gone to rest, passing the the time sleeping until the coast was clear.

"Indecisive child," the crone huffed impatiently. "Well, I don't have all night. Follow me if you want my help, otherwise farewell, and best of luck to you."

Galynda watched her plodding away. She looked back to the waterfall, then to her feet, and one more time to the waterfall. The little voice that preached prudence finally convinced her to pull herself together, and so she unenthusiastically followed the strange woman, trailing but a few paces behind.

No more than twenty minutes later, they reached a path. It was wide enough for a carriage, but overgrown with grass, and uneven. It didn't seem like it was used very often. A horse's whiny sounded through the dark wood, and soon, the old woman's caravan came into sight. The heavy horse attached to the waggon – a piebald Glikkun Dray – was tied to a tree.

The old woman placed her smaller basket at the steps of the caravan and the big carrier in front of the horse, who greedily began to devour the fresh leaves. Galynda's stomach used the opportunity to remind her that it, too, would like to be fed. The crone laughed.

"Come inside, and I will see what I can find in my modest pantry. Can't have you pinch my horse's food – he has to go back to work in the morning."

The interior of the carriage was roomier than Galynda would have expected. There were two beds - one hovering above the other (the lower one was occupied by a sleeping cat) - a wooden table that could be folded, and fastened against the wall, and a surprising number of shelves, and bookcases. The old woman waddled to her miniature stove, on her way snatching two metal cups from their hooks on the wall. She poured some lukewarm tea, and handed one cup to her guest before rummaging through her cabinets and drawers in search of food. In the end, they both sat down at the table, chewing away on dried fruitcakes and chomper nuts.

"So, what brought you all the way to Munchkinland, young lady?" the crone asked conversationally while cracking a few more of the tough nuts for them to feast on. "Didn't look like a pleasure trip."

Galynda put down the rest of her fruitcake, and folded her hands in her lap.

"I was abducted by outlaws. They brought me all the way to Munchkinland before I could escaped."

"They took your clothes, too?" the old woman smirked.

Galynda shot her a disdained look. Somehow she really didn't see what was so funny about that.

"You don't need to tell me; I already know you have been with the maiden of the waterfall."

The old woman snickered gleefully at her own witticism, while Galynda could only stare at her in wide-eyed astonishment.

"I can smell her on you. Not that I've ever met, or even seen her, but I detect the lingering scent of a powerful spell. There's nothing else in these woods that oozes magic like this."

The blonde didn't know how to react to all this. All she knew was that the ancient crone was becoming creepier by the minute. Most likely, she was a magic being herself, and not an ordinary merchant as Galynda had been led to believe. She toyed with the idea of simply running away. The witch's wobbly legs would not be able to keep up with her, that much was certain. Yet she didn't know what other powers she might have to stop her, or even where she should go in the event of a successful escape. Treading through the darkness, she had blindly followed her, and couldn't possibly find her way back to the waterfall. So she remained seated, making a rather unsuccessful attempt at hiding her discomfort.

"You should know, poppet, that I don't mean you any harm. I will take you back to Gillikin, rest assured. As fare I only ask that you tell me a bit about that poor soul that is bound to that waterfall. I have heard many a story about her, but stories are just that. You seem a far more reliable source, and I am eager to learn what I can."

"Will you send me away if I don't tell you?" Galynda asked warily.

"You are worried for her? About revealing her secrets?"

The younger woman chose not to reply.

The old witch's chair was dragged across the wooden floor with a screaking noise. Sitting beside Galynda now, the wrinkly woman deftly reached for a soft hand, and held it tightly in place. Galynda's breath caught in her throat, but she couldn't quite explain why. An odd feeling overcame her, almost as though the witch was using her hand to suck the energy out of her body. She began to tremble. When she was released at last, she slumped back against the backrest of her chair, panting slightly.

"What was that?" she demanded, her voice shaking somewhat.

"It is worse than I thought," the old hag replied, shaking her head. Galynda watched her, dreading what she might say. "You love her, don't you?"

That conclusion, the blonde had not expected. How could the witch know about this from simply holding her hand, and why was she so concerned about this?

"What if I do?" she retorted curtly.

"Oh, did my little remark worry you? Sorry about that, my pet. I will explain.

"You lay with her." At Galynda's shocked expression she merely lifted a finger, and wiggled it in front of the younger woman. "Don't you dare denying it, I can feel the power of her spell within you."

Galynda suddenly felt sick.

"Does that… does that mean I caught it… like a flu or something?"

On a second though, the idea was strangely appealing. She would ask the witch to bring her back to the waterfall, so she could tell Aelphaba that they would be together for the rest of eternity.

"Nothing of that sort," she old crone chuckled. "The seed of magic within you is too weak to truly bind you to this place. However, it binds you to _her_. Not in a spatial sense, but on an emotional level."

"What do you mean?"

"The effect will eventually subside, no worries. But until then, your feelings for her will remain strong, making your little heart ache. It might even break and kill you, so take good care. We don't want that to happen, no."

"Is that all?" Galynda asked, a frown furrowing her brow. From what she had heard, the pain from loosing a loved one was a dreadful experience, but was the old woman being serious that it could be lethal, too?

"You think I'm jesting? Listen to me, poppet: This is no usual bond between two lovers. The magic within her amplifies the emotions of you both. She will suffer the same as you, only you are so very fortunate to have met me. Wait here, I'll only need a moment."

Again, the thought of escape crossed the blonde's mind. This woman was insane. Or perhaps she was wise. In case of the later, her inner voice of reason argued, it would be better to stay and receive her help. The witch returned, and Galynda perked up and acted conspicuously innocent, as though she had something to hide. The witch snorted, and shook her sparsely haired head.

"I have two potions that might help – free of charge for you, because I must admit that I enjoy this most curious case. The first one-" She placed a blue vial with a weathered, unreadable label on the table. "-will capture, and retain the essence of her that still lingers within you. What that means is that you will never be able to forget your love for her. Your heart will be hers till the day you die."

Galynda was about to protest, for she didn't see how that was supposed to improve her situation in the slightest. But the ancient crone had anticipated her question.

"It also means that a part of her will always be with you. This will make the pain more bearable, and will protect your heart from shattering to pieces."

Galynda nodded, and grabbed the small bottle to inspect it sceptically. The old witch pressed the other vial into her free hand. The content seemed less, but it was as heavy as a chunk of lead, making her hand drop onto the table.

"And if you take this one," she explained, "it will erase her presence entirely. Within a tick tock, you will have forgotten all about her, and your feelings for her."

Galynda's eyes immediately snapped to the second bottle. Her hand tightened around it, then she opened it again to study the label. There was none. She swallowed hard. Her heart was beating in a strange, irregular rhythm. She had never been this torn.

"The decision isn't as easy as it would appear, ey?"

"How much time do I have to make up my mind?"

The older woman shrugged her shoulders.

"You can take the second potion any time, only waiting would increase the risk, and prolong your suffering. The first potion will be most effective if taken immediately. As her presence fades, there will be less of her that remains to protect you against the adverse effects."

After all that, Galynda had lost her appetite. The witch told her to use the bed at the top, while she would share the lower bed with the cat once she was finished cleaning up. Crawling under the thin blanket, the blonde was overcome with exhaustion. She placed the potions that had been given to her on the edge of the shelf installed right next to the bed's head end, and collapsed into the pillow.

* * *

The next time Galynda opened her eyes, she found herself not in a bed, or anywhere else in the witch's caravan, but on a pile of hay and leaves. She jumped, her head snapping around to scan her surroundings. She sensed movement further down, right beside her. Aelphaba turned in her sleep, quietly muttering her name, and reaching out to pull her back down. For a moment, Galynda was confused, unable to discern which scenario was dream, and which was reality. Had it all been but a terrible nightmare? How much of what she thought had happened, had truly come to pass, and how much was fantasy? Or was _this_ a fantasy while she was still lying in a bed somewhere else. She hoped not.

Cautiously, she lay back down, resting her head on her arm, and studying her opposite, the light of the campfire reflecting so beautifully on her alabaster skin. Aelphaba flexed her right hand, then stretched her arms, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She shuffled closer. A tender kiss was placed on Galynda's lips.

"You're cold my heart," Aelphaba's voice whispered softly, and the pale woman wrapped her arms around Galynda's body. Her embrace was so wonderfully warm and reassuring, and the blonde already felt sleep claiming her again. But the second her eyelids had fallen shut, Galynda woke with a start, eyes wide, and breathing heavily.

She was surrounded by cold darkness, and she was alone again. Well, not quite alone – from underneath her, she could hear the distinctive sound of snoring. And the gentle padding of paws; the cat was now awake, and eagerly exploring the interior of the waggon. Galynda covered her face with her hands, and expelled a frustrated groan. Wrapping her blanket around her shoulders for some minimal comfort, she attempted to calm her pounding heart, but it was of no use. Every single thud delivered real, physical pain, and she was fearful of what the witch had told her coming true. Her eyes darted towards the nearby shelf. The two bottles were still sitting there. She reached out a trembling hand, and picked up the one to the right. It took her considerable effort to remove the cork, but once the seal was gone, she didn't think twice before downing the liquid, knowing even a clock tick's hesitation would be enough to unleash her doubts.

* * *

The following morning, the ancient crone woke the blonde by poking her mattress with a broomstick.

"Time to rise and shine, poppet," she cackled in that rough voice of hers, and exited the waggon, slamming the door. Soon thereafter, the heavy vehicle set into motion.

Careful not to fall, Galynda climbed off her bed. Her head was throbbing, and the shaking of the caravan, accompanied with the noisy clattering of various dishes, pots, bottles and other trinkets was absolutely not helping. Half-blinded by the pain, she felt her way to the small table where she knew the chairs to be. Her hand found a tiny, shrivelled apple and a piece of rock-hard bread. She sat down, and ate them anyway. While her appetite had still not returned, her hunger was no longer ignorable.

The pain subsided somewhat as she chewed, and her thoughts, and sight became clearer. She noticed the plain, grey dress that was draped over the backrest of her chair, and slipped it on. It was both, too short and too wide for her, yet it was better than that lousy blanket. At least she would not have to hide herself away once they reached more populated areas. If that was the sort of route they were taking – given the old hag's peculiarities, it would have hardly surprise her if they were to avoid human contact at all cost.

They didn't however. After her meagre breakfast, Galynda jumped out of the back of the caravan, and quickly ran up to the front where the witch sat on the coachman's seat. She gripped the brass handle, and hopped onto the small step, then climbed all the way up to sit next to her. They were already nearing a village, and Galynda recognised it as the very place where she had escaped the outlaws.

"We will pick up some bread and spiced wine here," the ancient woman supplied. "My provisions were not meant to feed two mouths."

The trade was settled quickly, and they were on their way again. Galynda watched the roads carefully, memorising every landmark, and the name of every town they passed, or travelled through. At their steady, gentle pace, it took them two and a half weeks until they reached Galynda's hometown. The witch halted her caravan in front of the large, wooden north gate to bid her young travel companion a brief farewell.

"Are you sure you don't want to see me to my father's estate? He certainly would reward you generously for your services."

"Ah, you see: Not a day in my life have I served the high and mighty, stuck-up folks that arrogate the right to rule over these lands, and oppress the simple people. And I'm sure as hell not going to start now. No, my pet, I did a poor, helpless thing a favour, but mostly, I acted in my own interest, quenching my curiosity. I wish you well, poppet, but now I have to continue on my way. My own home is not far from here, and I plan to reach it before sundown."

With that, the witch clicked her reins, and the massive piebald horse began to move.


	7. Like Sisters

_**AN:**_

 _Hi everyone!_

 _I'm super sorry for this really long wait! As it turns out, uni work is really overwhelming right now... :S_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _Guest: (I hope you're stills ticking around and haven't given up on this story due to the long wait)_

 _Thank you so much for your lovely review! I feel very honoured! :D_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _Alright, not sure if this chapter is very exciting, but here you go..._

 _Happy reading! :3_

 _xxx MLE_

* * *

 **Like Sisters**

Standing before the iron gate that kept unannounced visitors well at bay outside visiting hours, Galynda could feel her heart stutter in her chest as she was suddenly overcome with disquiet. She looked down on herself, cringing at the raggedy dress she wore, her bare feet and the poor condition of her personal hygiene. She reached up to nervously comb her hair with her fingers. She could only imagine how tangled and matted her once silky, golden curls had become. Would any of her father's servants know who she was? If they didn't, she would surely be chased away like a beggar before catching as much as a glimpse of her father. Some of the staff had known her for a long time, however, and the hope that they at least would recognise her in nearly any state of dress or cleanliness helped her to gather enough courage to reach for the thin brass chain that rang the bell.

Nervous, yet expectantly, she watched the door of the cottage sitting next to the gate on the other side of the fence. It was late afternoon and the groundkeeper that lived in the small half-timbered house with the blue beams was still on duty. Instead of him, his wife opened one of the windows on the upper floor to see who was interrupting her busy housework.

"Good afternoon," Galynda called, trying to let her soft-spoken mannerism show while still being loud enough so that her voice would carry far enough for the woman to hear. "I apologise for my unusual and improper appearance. I might not look it, but my name is Galynda. I am the Margreave's daughter, returning from a long and dreadful journey."

She wished she knew the woman's, or at the very least her husband's name to give her claim some validity. As soon as she had spoken, the window was slammed shut, making her jump. Her eyes still glued to the window, the young lady exhaled and let her shoulders slump. This was bound to happen, she told herself and reached for the chain again. Initial failure would not discourage her so easily.

Chain already in hand, and just before she could tug on it, the creaking noise of the front door caught her attention. The groundkeeper's wife was approaching her with long strides, a young boy in tow. As she reached the gate, she cocked her head to inspect the blonde critically. Galynda took a step forward, gingerly resting her palms against the ornate bars.

"I am Galynda, the Margreave's daughter," she reiterated in her sweetest voice. "Please let me in and allow me to see him. You will find I am not lying."

A slow smile crept across the woman's face.

"By my auntie's chest hair, it's the Margreave's daughter!"

Swiftly, the sliding bot was removed and the gate opened.

"My dear, my dear," the woman chuckled, patting Galynda's hands, "Wait till your lord father learns of this, my lady!" Turning towards the boy that had quietly stood by, waiting for instructions, she said: "Hurry ahead and notify the staff in the house. Let them prepare a hot bath and clean clothes."

The boy's head of very un-Gillikinese black hair bobbed once in acknowledgement, and off he ran.

"Oh, my lady, you must be worn and tired; I'll put the kettle on right away so you can enjoy some tea while I fetch the pony."

"The pony?" Galynda repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't have you walk all the way up to the castle, my lady!"

The woman shook her head amusedly and waved her hand, signalling Galynda to follow her into the house. Once the blonde had a cup of steaming tea and a small tray of biscuits placed in front of her, the groundkeeper's wife slipped out of the door, telling her she wouldn't be long.

Not really feeling like tea, as she had had plenty of it while traveling with the old witch in her caravan, Galynda was still grateful for the biscuits. Hungrily, she stuffed three in her mouth at once – after all, her only witness was an old mountain dog, sleeping outstretched by the fireplace. Still chewing, she rested her head on her hands, and her elbows on the table. After such a long and turbulent time, the realisation that she was finally back home took a while to settle in.

Her thoughts drifted back to that fateful day the outlaws had ambushed and captured her. For the first time in a long while, she thought of her lady in waiting and closest friend, Millifen. She jumped in her seat and knocked over the cup, but didn't pay the hot liquid spilling over the table and on her dress any attention. Her head snapped around to the window on her right, from where she could see her father's castle. Had Millifen escaped and returned safely? She remembered the sight of the other woman's horse galloping away in panic. Her mount out of control, Millifen could have fallen and injured herself, or even worse.

Galynda had had enough of waiting. She suddenly felt the guilt like a hard punch in her stomach. For months she had not once thought about her friend's fate, and now she felt terrible about it. It no longer mattered to her whether she would have to walk the entire way, or crawl on her knees. She needed to see Millifen, make sure she was all right. If not, she would never forgive herself. Although it had all been an unfortunate coincidence, a typical case of the wrong place at the wrong time, it ultimately still had been her fault for hopping off her horse and carelessly roaming across the clearing.

She pushed back the chair and made for the door. Halfway towards the door, she froze when it suddenly opened. The groundkeeper's wife looked a little startled herself, but recovered quickly and offered her a broad smile.

"Quite impatient, aren't we, my lady? – Oops -" She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "I apologise if I'm acting too familiar. I simply can't help it - which is probably why I'm not working at the castle.

"But now come, my husband has returned with our pony and will now escort you to your lord father."

Galynda wished his wife would have accompanied her instead, for the groundkeeper himself was evidently a man of few words, and his demeanour intimidated the young lady. She wanted to ask whether he knew anything about Millifen, however, it somehow seemed unlikely to her that he even took interest in the people living up in the castle, and so she remained quiet, waiting for her chance once they arrived at the courtyard and the servants awaiting her.

Even before they reached the large, ivy-clad arch leading to the inner courtyard, she could see a slim, tall figure leaning against the green backdrop of leaves, arms wrapped around her waist. Galynda's eyes widened and her mouth stretched into the widest grin it was capable of.

"Thank you," she quickly tossed out as she slid out of the saddle and sprinted the final paces on her own, bare feet. The gravel between her toes and poking into the soft skin might not have been the most pleasant feeling, but she hardly noticed. Her friend awaited her with a lopsided smile on her lips, and she flung herself right into her arms.

"Mill," she sighed her relief, calling her lady in waiting by her pet name. Two arms firmly pressed her against the other woman's body for a brief moment, before she was gently pushed away again so that Millifen could look her over.

"Welcome back," Millifen smiled and gave Galynda's shoulders a quick squeeze.

Galynda blushed.

"Quit staring at me so intently – I look terrible."

"So you do," her friend laughed. "Come, the maids already drew you a nice, refreshing bath. I'll help you clean up and once you're presentable, your father is eager to meet you."

Galynda nodded and told Millifen to lead the way.

* * *

After the hot bath, and dressed in her favourite gown, the blonde almost felt like a new woman. As promised, her father had made some time to see her in between his meetings with tenants, lower nobles and business partners. The double doors to the audience chamber opened, and Galynda had to remind herself not to run. She curtly acknowledged her father's previous visitor with a nod as she passed him, and headed straight for the small dais. The Margreave rose from his masterly crafted quoxwood chair and stepped down from the podium to greet his daughter. Holding her at arm's length, he smiled down at her.

"My dear child. Welcome back."

Nearly as impassive as always. Galynda chuckled to herself. She hadn't expected anything else, and in a strange way she appreciated the familiarity. Her father began to tilt his head left and right, examining his daughter critically.

"What did they do to you? Did they hurt you? Did… did they-"

"I'm fine, father," she interrupted him, her lips twitching as her smile began to falter.

The Margreave's eyes searched hers for truth, then moved on and found another target. Galynda turned her head to see Millifen nod to her father, confirming that everything was all right. Her father looked back at his child, then folded her in his arms, perfectly unexpectedly.

A few clock ticks later, he gently patted her back and detached himself from her.

"Well, I'll see you at dinner, yes? In the meantime, why don't you take Millifen and visit Mauve in the stables?"

Her face lit up. With a slight curtsy, she excused herself, before turning around, grabbing her friend by her arm on the way out.

"I never dared to hope Mauve would be here when I return," she gushed excitedly as the two women hurried down several flights of stairs.

"He came back home a few hours after I did."

"And father didn't sell him or give him away?"

"He always hoped you'd come back to ride him again."

"So much sentimentalism! That doesn't sound like him at all," Galynda laughed incredulously. Part of her could only believe it when she finally saw her faithful friend with her own eyes.

A stable hand opened the door for them, and Galynda immediately rushed to her horse's stall. The palomino greeted her by tenderly rubbing his head against her chest and softly blowing his nose.

"What happened to "Rorick, the huntsman?" Galynda asked tentatively as she stroked Mauve's neck. "Did they find him? Did they bring him back?"

Millifen sighed, but nodded.

"I had to show them where to look. Some animal had already taken a chunk out of him by then. It still gives me nightmares."

Galynda bit her lip.

"What about you? Did you get home safely?"

"I was scared as hell when Tyra galloped with me over hedge and ditch, but I stayed in the saddle. A few scratches from the one or the other branch, but otherwise I was unharmed.

"You won't believe how glad I am you're back here with us now, Glyn," she added after a moment of despondent silence. "It's like a small miracle."

* * *

This evening's dinner conversation turned out to be far less pleasant than Galynda's earlier reunion with her father, and by the end of it, all she wanted was to disappear into her room and bury herself under her plush comforter.

A knocking sounded, and hesitantly Galynda poked her head out from under the blanket.

"Go away," she groaned.

"Galynda?" It was Millifen. "I thought I could keep you some company... cheer you up a little?"

"Thank you, but no thank you," Galynda replied. "Please, go a way, I don't want to have to shout at you."

Another knock and another time her name was called. She ignored it and slipped back under the comforter. Between her father's ridiculous interrogation concerning her whereabouts over the past three months and his even more ridiculous revelation that she was set to be engaged within the next week or two, she'd clearly had enough. She curled up under the blanket, drawing her knees up to her chest. She had expected her father to find a husband for her eventually, but this was far too soon, leaving her not the slightest chance to at least heal the shallowest of her recent wounds and prepare herself for the loveless life as some rich bloke's wife. She could feel her heart pinch and concentrated on taking deep breaths in and out, hoping for it to pass.

* * *

The engagement was a brief and quiet affair. The young gentleman – Master Muggins, or something like that, a big name from the big city, her father had told her proudly the night before – had come without his parents and only with his older brother to stand by his side. The wedding, he had promised her, would be far grander and every young lady's dream come true. He was handsome enough, she supposed, but nondescript. What that meant was that as soon as she moved the Emerald City with him, she was sure to loose him in the without a doubt equally fine-looking crowd. He seemed polite and generous, too, and upon his arrival had surprised her with a more than fancy dress. Galynda only hoped, he didn't intend to say that her usual style was too country for his taste.

After the exchange of a few pleasantries under the Margreave's strict supervision, there was food and wine for lunch, followed by an awkwardly silent walk through the castle's rose garden, and then finally, there was dinner and the grand announcement in front of all her father's family and closest friends. Young Master Muggins-or-whatever-his-name-was left her with one more present before he took his leave. Galynda thanked him rigidly, but didn't bother opening the small box. She fled to the safety of her room as soon as his carriage had passed the ivy-clad arch and was out of sight. When Millifen entered the room a couple of minutes later to help her undress, she found Galynda on her bed, face burrowed between her pillows and crying.

"There, there," she whispered, gingerly placing her hand on her friend's back and rubbing it in a soothing manner. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Do you not like Master Mullince? I personally thought he was quite charming."

Galynda's sobbing subsided eventually – not because of her friend's comforting presence, but because the young lady did not wish to be watched bawling without any restraint. It made her feel childish, crude, and above everything else, she was afraid it might draw unwanted attention to her little, until then well-kept secret. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, wiping at the tears fiercely as she turned to face the other woman.

"I feel like merchandise," she hiccupped, after deciding that her explanation might be most convincing if she shared at least a small measure of the truth. "I'd been missing without a trace for three months. I could have been dead for all father knew. Yet, the moment I reappear, I'm practically sold off to the man whose family would reap him the greatest benefit."

Millifen quickly enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"Please don't think of it this way! Surely your father loves you and just wants to see you in best hands. And a nobleman from the capital isn't an opportunity that arises all too often. Once this gentleman is married to someone else, who knows when the next one will come along? Perhaps time pressure simply forced your father's hand."

"You know this isn't true," Galynda scoffed. "At least not the first part."

Now Millifen's mood began to turn sour.

"Well, if you already knew what a self-centred beast he is, then why are you even crying? You must have had an idea of what would await you for at least the past fifteen years."

Galynda's eyes flashed at her.

"You're cruel!" she hissed and jumped off the bed, scampering to the window where she stood, her arms wrapped around her waist, staring out into the moonless night. It took all her strength to stay upright, not to crumble to the floor in a tight ball. Her heart had begun hurting again, and more so than ever before. She had tried to hide it ever since she had taken the potion, even from herself; but she missed her love so terribly. Needless to say, the circumstances of this sudden engagement, her father's greed and her friend's ignorance only added insult to this grave wound in her heart.

Silence stretched between the two women. Galynda spent the time reminiscing about that night she had spent under the starry sky, lying in the lush grass - content, and side by side with Aelphaba. To her surprise, remembering soothed her aching heart a little. She actually had expected the opposite to be the case.

"Is there someone else you would rather marry," Millifen suddenly wondered loudly.

Galynda stiffened, her heart racing. Had she been too obvious or was her friend merely venturing a wild guess?

Without making a sound, Millifen slipped off the bed and crossed the room to hug Galynda from behind.

"Come on, Glyn. We have known each other for years. We grew up together like sisters. You can trust me completely. You know that, right?"

Galynda realised that her reluctant reaction had only helped to confirm Millifen's suspicion. She swallowed hard and licked her lips. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to confide in someone. Maybe it would even help to say it out loud. She reached for her friend's hands and untangled the arms wrapped around her midsection. Then she turned around to face Millifen, looking her straight in the eyes.

"I suppose there is." Her voice came out much squeakier than she had anticipated, and her cheeks immediately blushed a deep pink. She felt like a silly, little girl. Clearing her throat didn't help much either, so she continued as awkwardly as she had begun. "I haven't though much about marrying her, but I would have died to spend more time with her". She briefly paused, considering how true this little phrase was in her most peculiar case. But she forced a small, sad smile to gloss over her fluster. Millifen didn't need to know about those things.

A thoughtful "Mhmmm…" was the first reply she received. "Well, I can't say that I've seen that coming. I never took you for one of those girls who gravitate towards those of their own sex."

"I don't!" Galynda objected – too hastily for her own taste. She didn't intend to come across as desperate to deny it. It wasn't like she was ashamed. Why would she? It was only love; everyone knew how unpredictable it could be.

"I don't think I have any preferences," she explained, more composed now. "Or I suppose you could say I have a very specific preference." The colour began to flush her face again.

Millifen rolled her eyes and pivoted back to the bed.

"I know how that feels, Glyn, but believe me it will pass. I've been there several times already, you know?"

Biting her lip, Galynda shook her head slowly.

"I don't think it will."

"That's what they all say the first time 'round." Millifen patted the empty spot next to her on the bed. "Now come here and tell me all about her."

"What?"

"I listened to your bawling, so the least I can expect is a racy love story."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Galynda did as she was told.

"Racy?" she chuckled as she sat down. "You know, it's _me_ we're talking about, not _you_."

Her friend cackled impishly.

"Oh, but still waters run deep. Don't leave anything out, I know this will be good!"

Tilting her head, Galynda took a few clock ticks, thinking of what to say. Her friend beside her huffed in frustration and slumped into the pillows, arms stretched out above her head.

"I don't know where to start," Galynda told her sheepishly.

"How about where and how you met her?"

Galynda mulled over this for a while, but finally decided that she could trust her childhood friend with the truth. Not with the entire truth, of course, for such a tale would only be rewarded with disbelieve and mockery. After a deep, calming breath, she began.

"I met her soon after escaping the outlaws. She helped me hide from them when they came looking for me. She… lives in a cave. Behind a waterfall."

Next to her, the other woman immediately burst into laughter.

"I see, your beloved is a water nymph!"

"I knew you wouldn't take me serious."

"Oh, but I do!" Millifen grabbed Galynda's upper arm to pull herself up. "Please, continue. I won't interrupt. I promise."

Galynda ground her teeth in mild disdain, but decided to give this conversation one last chance.

"She… is quite human, I assure you."

"I hope she's not one of those diminutive Munchkins," Millifen interjected once again.

"Indeed, she isn't," Galynda retorted, exhaling noisily through her nose. "She is a Munchkinlander; even taller than you, in fact, with the fairest skin, but dark hair. Her eyes are… strange, in a way. But beautiful! Pastel green – I've never seen anything like it."

The look in her eyes became dreamy as she imagined those exotic eyes looking one more time back into her own. She snapped out of it quite quickly however, and froze. Not used to her audience being so quiet, she tentatively turned her head to look at her friend. Millifen had scooted a little closer and her head was now resting on Galynda's shoulder. She batted her long lashes and smiled sweetly.

"You are absolutely smitten with her."

Galynda couldn't help but blush again.

"Why did you leave her? Did she not reciprocate your feelings?" Millifen seemed genuinely confused and Galynda was grateful for some empathy.

Shaking her head, she said: "She didn't think the life that awaited her was good enough for me." That much was true. "She thought I would be better off returning to my father. Part of me might have agreed back then, but now there is nothing in my life I ever regretted more."

The last few words came out coked, accompanied with another gush of fresh tears. She threw herself in her startled confidante's arms and clung to her until the waves of pain, sorrow and heartache raging within her chest had calmed.

"You're a good friend," she sniffed a little later as she extracted herself from her friend's embrace. "The best friend I could ask for."

"Shhhh," Millifen cooed, tucking one of Galynda's curls in place. "That's what I'm here for, right? But now it's time for bed. I'll help you undress and then you can decide whether you want me to stay for comfort, or whether you'd rather have some time to yourself."

Galynda nodded and they commenced their eventing routine. Once she was all cleaned up and had changed into her nightgown, she bade her companion goodnight, since she had decided that she had done enough talking for one night and didn't trust Millifen to fall asleep without further attempts at tickling some details out of her.

* * *

After this first night, Galynda and Millifen spent many evenings talking about her _'little adventure'_ as they called it to take away some of the dreadful feelings associated with her involuntary journey to Munchkinland and back again. They discussed all sorts of things she had seen and encountered, but mostly, they talked about Aelphaba. Although there really wasn't much to tell, since Galynda was careful to avoid mentioning anything that seemed particularly extraordinary or unnatural. Topics such as the Grimmerie, as well as certain aspects of Aelphaba's past – and present – were taboo. Sometimes she felt silly for repeating herself over and over when raving about her love's beauty like an obsessed worshipper. Yet somehow, it helped to overcome her loneliness and the more often she thought of Aelphaba, the more it warmed and soothed her still aching heart. And Millifen never complained, which put her somewhat at ease.

One evening, about four weeks later, Millifen sorted through Galynda's laundry, while she was sitting at her vanity, brushing out her hair. She hadn't even trimmed it ever since she had been abducted and it was growing long. Wistfully she let her left hand glide over it after every brush stroke. She would be married in less than three months, and it was an old custom for young women to cut their hair to about shoulder length on the day of their wedding, to signify this turning point in their life and a new start. She liked it better long. Aelphaba's hair was long even longer.

"Glyn?

"Galynda?"

It took a tick tock or two, until her friend's voice was able to bring her back from her deep contemplations.

"Galynda!"

"Mhmm?"

Millifen stood and walked up to her, carrying the wicker basket with her used clothes. She looked concerned and somewhat flustered.

"I was just wondering… Are you feeling all right?"

Furrowing her brow, Galynda put her brush aside and looked up to her.

"Yes," she replied slowly, "I'm feeling quite fine. Why are you asking?"

"Your sheets and smallclothes are still clean. After over six weeks. Are you sure you're not ill?"

Galynda averted her gaze, staring at her hands. Her heart began to quickened, leaping up into her mouth. She knew what her friend was driving at, but she wasn't aware of any misdoing on her part.

Behind her, Millifen began to fidget, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

"Well…" she said a moment later, the anxiety clearly showing in her voice, "I'm sure everything will be all right." She kissed Galynda's forehead and hurried out of the room.


	8. Unforeseen Consequences

_**AN:**_

 _Oh, wow... I was pretty sure last time that there were 2 chapters left. The truth is that NOW there are two chapters left lol Sorry about that (^_^;) This is my final change though. I suck at writing short stories it would seem (this was supposed to be just 5 chapters, guys! FTW?! On the bright side, that means that the story will be 10 chapters in total... kinda a nice, round number. 8 and 7 would have been good, too, but somehow 9 would have been weird... or that's what I think anyway xD_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _ **Jessica:**_

 _Oh, that's good to know! Thanks for reading and for your short message. It makes me really happy to hear that!_

 _ **Guest:**_

 _Oh yay! Glad you're still sticking around! :D_

 _Thanks once again for your lovely comments. I feel tickled pink! So, so kind of you! A bit confusion in the end of the last chapter is alright, I was intentionally trying to be vague. I really don't know how everyone will like this chapter and the next, because potentially they turned out a bit weird (next more so than this one, I suppose) But anyway..._

 _On a different note: If I may be so self-important... if you generally like my writing, I might particularly recommend my story "The Princess of Oz" (if you haven't already read it) - one of my better works, I'd say, and it might help you bridge the time between updates ;)_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _Okay, that's it for now... happy reading everyone! *coughs*_

 _xxx MLE :3_

* * *

 **Unforeseen Consequences**

 _"_ _Aelphaba? Are you still awake?"_

 _Lying on their bed of hay and leaves, wrapped in her love's arms, Galynda still couldn't sleep. Her perfectly still body didn't betray her unease, however, in her head, the cogs of her mind simply wouldn't stop turning. She was comfortable so close to Aelphaba, and life was perfect despite the sour grapes and the sparse accommodation they shared. They loved each other, and somehow, that seemed to be all they needed. Yet as soon as things around her grew calm and quiet and her mind wasn't otherwise occupied, a strange feeling overcame her – a feeling that something wasn't quite right. It wasn't Aelphaba or their relationship; it was something much greater, something all-encompassing and pervasive. Eventually, she knew, these silent nights would drive her insane._

 _She wiggled a little to loosen Aelphaba's embrace just enough so she could turn around and face her. When she tilted her head upwards to catch a glimpse of the supposedly sleeping beauty beside her, she realised that the pale woman was still wide-awake. She blinked._

 _"_ _You are not sleeping? Why didn't you answer me then?"_

 _A placid smile on her lips, Aelphaba brushed a strand of golden hair out of Galynda's face and tucked it behind her ear._

 _"_ _I noticed you're having a hard time falling asleep at night, but if I indulge you and reply, it will only keep you awake for longer."_

 _"_ _Oh, you mean thing," the blonde protested, and lightly thumped her fist against Aelphaba's arm. "How do you know I wouldn't rather stay up all night than lonely brood over something that isn't even there."_

 _"_ _I apologise. But we both know what lack of sleep does to you, my heart. And I don't think I'd fare much better in the long run."_

 _Aelphaba paused, her intense eyes studying the petite woman in her arms. After she had concluded her examination, she carefully shuffled closer to place a few tender butterfly kisses on her forehead, nose and lips._

 _"_ _Will you tell me then what it is that keeps you awake till the wee hours of the morning?"_

 _"_ _I don't know," Galynda replied, dejectedly shrugging her shoulder. "It's_ something _, but I have no idea what this_ something _is."_

 _"_ _How odd…"_

 _"_ _It's infuriating!"_

 _Huffing in frustration, the blonde curled up and against Aelphaba's chest. The other woman chuckled, amused, and gently stroked her cheek._

 _"_ _So grumpy, my love. Do you think another goodnight kiss might make things better?"_

 _"_ _Mhmm… I don't know," Galynda purred, looking up to Aelphaba again._

 _Aelphaba cupped her jaw to gently adjust her position and captured her soft, warm lips with her cool ones._

 _"_ _Is it working?" she asked huskily and smirked._

 _The shorter woman cocked her head thoughtfully._

 _"_ _Maybe. Let's try again and see."_

 _Laughing, Aelphaba once again leaned forward and-_

"Glyn? Hey, Galynda! Are you all right?"

Galynda's awakening wasn't nearly as gentle and cosy as her dream had been, but rather rude and abrupt. Her lids fluttered open, but were quickly squeezed shut again when the early afternoon sun blinded her still sensitive eyes.

"This is the third time today," Millifen noted with concern. "I'm worried about you. People don't simply fall asleep in the middle of the day."

"My grandmother used to sleep _all_ of the day," Galynda retorted as she stifled a yawn.

"Your grandmother – may Lurline watch over her soul - was in her late eighties."

Galynda allowed her friend to help her up from the settee and straightened out her skirt once she stood more or less securely on her somewhat tingly legs.

"Did you wake me up simply because this is an unorthodox time for a nap?" she grumbled. "How do you know that I don't actually need some extra rest? After all that I've been through…"

Millifen huffed mildly and crossed her arms.

"That was a while ago now. In my opinion, you recovered just well. Oh, and believe me, I had better plans than disturbing your little catnap, however, as it happens, your intended decided to pay us an unannounced visit. He sent word about ten minutes ago and your lord father instructed me to get you dressed and presentable immediately."

In Galynda's sleepy head the words were spinning and dancing around in no apparent order, so it took her a while to discern their meaning. She lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose and made a face.

"Sorry, who did you say is coming?"

"Master Mullince has sent his calling card," her lady in waiting reiterated, and Galynda's tiredness fell off her immediately, revealing a appalled kind of shock written all over her lovely features. Millifen gave her a more patronising than comforting pat on the shoulder and began to shoo her into her bedroom where she would get dressed.

"Your father suggested you wear the gown he presented you with on the day of your engagement," she informed her as she flitted through the room, from drawer to drawer, chest to chest, and wardrobe to wardrobe, to collect the necessary items of clothing.

"Mill?" Galynda tried to abate her zeal – to no prevail. Millifen dumped stockings, corset and undergarments on the bed and carefully draped the mint green dress over a chair.

"That should be all," she murmured slightly out of breath while surveying the assemblage. "I trust you can change your undergarments yourself. I'll quickly hurry to my room to find something more suitable as well, then I'll come back to assist you with the corset and the gown."

Galynda nodded and was glad when her friend was finally gone, for she still needed a moment or two to collect her thoughts. She sat down on her bed and stared out of the window on the opposite wall. It always took her some time to recover whenever she had dreamt of Aelphaba and the life they could have had in their secret cave behind the waterfall. They were so real, those dreams, and so realistic that, as long as she was still asleep, she could never tell that she was merely indulging in make-believe, despite the fact that she really should know better. Only after opening her eyes and finding herself between her silky sheets, or on her soft couch, she would realise that she was indeed back home, and Aelphaba thousand of miles away. She blamed the potion she had taken for the intensity of her dreams and was of two minds about whether this particular side effect was rather undesirable, or in truth a welcome one. Her fantasies were so sweet, yet the awakening was always far crueller.

The door banged open, and dressed in a pretty, yellow gown with a broad ribbon tied around her waist, Millifen came whirling back into the room. With one quick look at her lady's attire, she realised that not much un- and redressing had occurred during her brief absence, and shaking her head and tsking, she began to tug and pull on Galynda's morning dress. Once all layers were removed, she found Galynda's small clothes and chemise among the other pieces on the bed and held them out towards her, giving her a prodding nod.

Next up was the corset. Galynda used to wear one on a daily basis as part of her sophisticated wardrobe, yet ever since her return from Munchkinland, she opted more oft than not to forgo the impractical cage of cloth and whalebone. She once had been reasonably comfortable wearing her corset, but now that her body knew the freedom of entirely unveiled nakedness, it seemed to revolt and protest whenever it was squeezed and moulded into the shape fashion dictated to be the roper one. Somehow, the procedure was quickly becoming more torturous every time it was performed, Galynda found, and hissed in pain as her friend tightened the laces around her midsection.

Millifen exhaled deeply when the task was completed and examined the result of her handiwork. Galynda saw her frowning and briefly biting her lip, however, before she could ask what was wrong, a series of petticoats and the voluminous skirt of her gown were already being pulled over her head, followed buy the bodice. A few final cords were tied and a couple more adjustments were made, and Galynda was good to go. Her lady in waiting nodded mutely and just as silently walked her to the parlour where the young master would be already waiting for her.

When Galynda entered the room, her father and their guest rose from their comfortable stuffed chairs. Master Mullince bowed deep to greet her and kissed her hand. The twinkling look in his eyes when he rose again had her breath caught in her throat.

"What an extraordinary pleasure to meet you again, my lady," he said excitedly, his face beaming like that of a little child's on Lurlinemas. "I know, this feeling might be one-sided, but I need to make a confession: from the moment I saw you, I was overwhelmed by your charm, grace and beauty."

Galynda offered him a fleeting smile as she felt the blood rush to her cheeks - out of embarrassment rather than from the flattery. The young man licked his lips nervously, yet plowed on with persistence.

"I deeply regret not having been able to express my admiration earlier and having been such poor company the last time we saw each other. But I hope that you will graciously overlook this lapse of wit. It was your very presence that had robbed me of any sensible thought and left me speechless."

After this most fulsome declaration of veneration, it was her turn to say something. She uneasily looked up to her father, who seemed immensely pleased. Her eyes wandered towards Millifen, but her face was void any expression. Her stomach dropped slightly at the thought of how strained the relationship between her and her supposedly best friend had suddenly become over the past week or two; worst of all, she had no idea what might have caused this. Yet she quickly brushed these thoughts aside as this was neither the time, nor the place. She returned her attention to her future husband and feigned fluster to cover up her absentmindedness, blushing some more and coyly averting her gaze.

"You are too kind, Master Mullince. I didn't think that gentlemen these days were still given to such generous compliments. May I ask you a question?"

He nodded. "Anything, my lady."

"While I'm thrilled to see you again so soon, I cannot help wonder what brings you here two months before our scheduled wedding."

From her right hand side, she registered a disapproving noise, made by her father, but she ignored it. In her mind, she was still moving well within the boundaries of propriety and the young man before her didn't seem to recognise the disdain behind her question either.

"Well, as it happened, I came across a stunningly beautiful wedding gown when I last visited the dressmaker. I asked him to lend it to me, so I could bring it to you for a fitting and to see if it is to your liking."

Her eyes grew wide.

"You came all the way so I could try on a dress?" she gasped in unabashed astonishment, earning herself another harrumph from the Margreave.

"Well," Mullince cleared his throat sheepishly, "yes… to be frank, it partially served as an excuse to see you again."

Silence span between the pair and just when it threatened to become unbearable, Mullince broke out of his stupor and hurried to retrieve the large box he had placed on the coffee table.

"H-here," he stammered slightly as he presented her with the wrapped wedding gown. "Perhaps you could try it on and let me know what you think?"

Galynda nodded wordlessly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father beckoning the head maid closer, before ordering Millifen to accompany her to her quarters. The head maid rushed past them as they left the parlour, and by the time that they reached Galynda's apartment, a whole group of women was already busy setting up a semicircle of mirrors and a small wooden platform.

"Thank you, that would be all," Millifen declared in a harsh tone of voice. The maids looked up at her in obvious confusion.

"But my lady, his lordship ordered us to help the lady Galynda to get dressed."

"And I tell you that your help is not required. The lady is not feeling particularly well and having so many of you buzz around her will only aggravate her condition. I am confident that I will be able to handle this task by myself."

The women exchanged worried looks, but one by one, they bowed their heads and quietly slipped out of the room.

Galynda was thankful for her friend's intervention, yet was left just as confused as the servants.

"Why did you do this?" she asked tentatively as Millifen took the box from her and began to unpack its content.

"Quick, remove your clothes," was the only reply she received. "We shouldn't let your guest wait forever."

Pursing her lips, Galynda still did as she was told and began to carefully pull on the laces at the back of her dress. Millifen helped her with the final pieces and the corset once she had had a look at the wedding gown, which came with a different, softer kind of corsage to accommodate its unusual design. Galynda decided that she liked this lighter model, which only gently shaped her natural curves into the desired shape.

The dress itself was fairly different to those she had seen in Gillikin - some sort of modern city chic, she supposed. It had one long, semi-transparent sleeve, richly decorated with rhinestones and embroidery. The other arm and shoulder were left bare, and the back was cut daringly low. Her peers and relatives would be scandalised to see her in a provocative outfit such as this if the weeding were to be held in her hometown; however, since she would be wed in the capital, she assumed that it would be in her best interest to accept local taste rather than sticking with antiquated traditions.

She let her eyes wander further down, to the more conventional skirt. It was everything she would have expected in a wedding gown and more: several layers of light, feathery tulle and chiffon, flowing all the way to the floor. It reflected the same opulent pattern of rhinestones and embroidery that adorned the sleeve, and Galynda couldn't help but be amazed at how much money her husband to be was ready to invest in her clothing alone. If his family was this wealthy, it was no wonder that her father was so keen on this union.

Millifen continued fluffing up the dress and adjusting the bodice several more times, seemingly growing frustrated. Galynda cast her a questioning look, which naturally, didn't garner her any response. Trying to see for herself what had her lady in waiting so dissatisfied, she studied her likeness in the mirror more carefully. Everything seemed just fine, until a slight bulge around her midsection made her brows furrow in concern. Millifen caught her gaze in the mirror and abandoned her efforts to conceal the small imperfection. Still maintaining eye contact, she stepped aside and heaved a heavy sigh. Galynda's hands flew up to her stomach in an attempt to cover it, as she suddenly felt embarrassed.

"It's gorgeous, don't you think?" she murmured quietly. "I only need to shed a few pounds."

Millifen's face briefly betrayed her disbelief, then – with a twitch – re-established its impassive façade.

"Galynda, you have barely eaten over the past two months," she replied sternly.

The hands lightly pressed against Galynda's abdomen clenched, but she said no more. She exchanged the wedding gown for the dress she had worn before, and delivered the box back to Master Mullince.

"How do you like it?" he asked enthusiastically.

His hands brushed against hers as he received the package and she smiled uncomfortably.

"It's… very pretty," she almost whispered and the young man's face fell. Clearly, he had expected a different answer.

* * *

The following day, Galynda woke when the sun had already risen high up in the sky. She was grateful for the extra sleep – she couldn't quite explain why, but Lurline knew she had needed it! On the other hand, she immediately realised that something wasn't right. Her father was a man of principles. Two of his most valued doctrines rules were punctuality and a rigid timetable. Even as young as four years old, she had been expected to adhere to an exact dining, study and sleep schedule. Sleeping in had never before been an option, except when he was away traveling for business purposes and such.

She slipped out of bed and carefully tiptoed to her bedroom door. When she opened it, she found Millifen perched on the settee, reading a book.

"Good morning," she murmured, belatedly realising that it was a little silly to use this phrase when it was clearly past noon.

The other woman looked up from her book and snapped it shut without even marking the page.

"Your father is awaiting you in his audience chamber."

Galynda froze. Yes, something was definitely off. She nodded curtly and retreated into her room to get dressed.

Millifen walked her to the audience chamber, but stopped by the door, motioning with her head for Galynda to continue on by herself. The Margreave, however, had other plans and called for the lady in waiting to step forward. Millifen seemed uncomfortable, yet didn't dare argue with her lord.

"Step closer, my daughter," the Margreave growled gruffly and a small shiver ran down Galynda's spine as she did so.

"Galynda." His voice had softened a little in the face of his child's apparent distress. Rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully, he considered his daughter, tilting his head from left to right.

"Yes, Father."

"You are my blood and I love you dearly, so I don't intend to make this a spectacle."

Cautiously, Galynda looked around, her eyes jumping from one person to the next. There were servants standing by and waiting for their orders, two of the Margreave's advisors and a few other figures who clearly needn't be present if her father had intended to keep this a private conversation. She nearly rolled her eyes at that, but caught herself. If she really was in trouble, she better be careful.

"My child, I know that we briefly talked about this before, but I need to ask you again to be certain; when these outlaws captured you, did they ever do anything to harm you? Perhaps not just in a purely physical way?"

The heart in her chest was pounding and blood rushed to her head. Galynda had hoped to leave all this behind her, yet her father had chosen to revisit this disturbing chapter of her still young life. She wondered what had suddenly rekindled his interest in the matter. She took a shuddering breath and swallowed hard before answering.

"They were as gentle as could possibly be expected. Once I had surrendered to my fate, they treated me well enough. For a captive."

"And they never demanded that you perform any acts meant to be between husband and wife?"

Galynda's eyes widened in shock. All colour and warmth immediately drained from her face, and a sudden chill shook her violently. She turned to find reassurance from her friend, but Millifen's gaze was trained to the ground.

"N-no, Father," she replied in a shaky, thin voice. "They… Their plan was to sell me. To a savage king, they said. I-it would have been against their interest to spoil their merchandise."

She felt faint and nauseous. She wanted to grip her friend's hand for support, but not even a small finger was extended in her direction. Instead, she held onto her own hands, digging her nails in the delicate flesh to keep herself from fidgeting too much.

The Margreave worked his jaw and nodded slowly.

"And you are absolutely positive?"

"Yes. Father." By now, Galynda's voice came out as nothing more than a squeak. "I… am rather well educated concerning my duties as my future husband's wife. I am aware of what they entail, and I can assure you, that I was never asked or forced to participate in any adulterous practices by my capturers."

Galynda fought to keep herself together and to choose her words wisely. She needed to dissipate her father's doubts, but she didn't intend to lie. There were still a few things she would very much prefer to keep secret, however.

"Then let me ask another question – and bear in mind that you are still my child, and that if you answer me truthfully, I shall not be too hard on you."

Her stomach dropped like a stone. She had hoped that this interrogation would be over once she had convinced her father that no harm had come to her; yet obviously, this wasn't the case.

"Once you escaped the outlaws, did you ever find yourself in the company of any other men? Men you might have felt grateful or obligated towards?"

"Father," Galynda choked out in despair and close to tears, "What are you implying?"

"Fine!" the margreave roared and pushed himself out of his big chair.

Galynda shrunk back. She would have fled, but there was nowhere for her to go with all those people around her and the doors firmly closed shut.

"We might as well get this over and done with," her father spat and took a step forward to shorten the growing distance between him and her daughter. "How did it happen?"

"I don't know what you _mean_!" cried Galynda in reply, surprising herself as her small, timid voice grew in volume to reflect her frustration and hurt.

"Young lady, I am shocked that you take your own father for such a fool! This is the height of disrespect. Your lady in waiting-" he pointed his finger right at Millifen "-comes to me with word that you are with child and _you_ come before me, acting as though you were the personification of innocence."

The entire room was silent then – not that anyone had dared to speak before, but now not the slightest noise was to be heard. No one dared to move, turn their head, or even breathe. In the absolute absence of any sound, the room around Galynda appeared to expand infinitively. She herself felt weak and small and fading, while everything and everyone around her seemed to quickly overtower her. The world began to spin and faces sped past her field of vision: stern, judgemental faces, some marked with disappointment, others with disgust.

"So? What is your defence?"

At her father's booming voice, the spinning stopped and she regained her focus. The faces turned back into impassive masks and the proportions of the room, as well as the people in it returned to normal. She found her mouth opening and closing several times as she struggled for an answer, but not a single word spilled from her lips. At a complete loss, she turned once more to Millifen. As stunned and shaken as she was, she was in no capacity to be angry at this point. Instead, she silently pleaded for help when her eyes found her friend's.

"Galynda!"

Her father once again demanded her attention. His entire head was flushed in anger. She could even see the blood pulse through the veins at his temples. His jaw was so tightly set that one might be worried his teeth could break. Galynda was no longer afraid of him and even her resentment slowly waned. She wasn't quite sure anymore what she felt, beside that terrible exhaustion.

"I swear," she began slowly, yet loud and clearly, "that I never lay with any man. I-"

"A lie! How else would you explain your condition?"

"I-I… I don't-, I mean…" And just like this, her temporary confidence had evaporated again. Her heart beat so fast it could barely keep up a steady rhythm, resulting in her breaths to come out in short gasps. Attempts at trying to calm her breathing remained futile, yet they gave her some time to articulate a cohesive sentence. "I don't know," she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Before you brought it to my attention, I wasn't even aware of the possibility!"

"How could you not be aware of something like _this_?"

Gathering the last shreds of her remaining pride, she lifted her chin and looked up. He would never believe her, for he had already formed his own opinion about this matter. She saw it in his blank, steel grey eyes. But if the situation was so hopeless, trying at least couldn't hurt her.

"Because I haven't done anything that would have such… such consequences. Y-you must be wrong, father! Your conclusion is absolutely implausible!"

"Galynda listen, if this wasn't true, we would know soon enough. Do you honestly think that your lady in waiting would be lying about this?"

Barely turning her head this time, Galynda caught another Glimpse of Millifen. She didn't know. And she didn't know why her best friend would betray her like this, going to her father, behind her back.

"I've heard enough," the Margreave snorted as he returned to his seat. "Lady Millifen, please escort my daughter to her private rooms. I will send a physician to have a look at her. She is not leave until I say otherwise."

Galynda moved before her friend had a chance to take her arm. She passed through the corridors at a quick pace, followed by a slightly breathless Millifen. Once in her apartment, she disappeared in her bedroom and locked the door. Millifen knocked and called several times, but after a little while she gave up and took up residence on the settee.

* * *

The physician her father had sent later established that she was indeed carrying a child. Furthermore, he confirmed the loss of her innocence. The latter was hardly a surprise to Galynda; the former, however, took a long time to sink in. She sat on her bed, arms wrapped around her abdomen, tears slowly running down her cheek. Millifen had been present during the procedure and now she was quietly waiting in the corner by the window.

"Why did you do this to me?" Galynda asked softly after over two hours.

Millifen pushed herself off the wall and stepped closer, yet not too close.

"There is no hiding something like this. Your father would have found out eventually."

"The least you could have done was to talk to me first."

"I thought you knew. I mean…. You had to know, how could you not? You haven't bled at the very least since your return, you're constantly on edge, always tired, and your abdomen is growing despite the fact that you barely eat."

Millifen shook her head, but sat beside Galynda on the bed, her back turned towards her.

"You know what happened," Galynda whispered and rested her hand on Millifen's. "There was no man. It is as I said: I never lay with a man. Ever. There was only _her_. This isn't possible."

Millifen retracted her hand, only to grasp her friend's tenderly.

"And you expect me to simply believe an absurd story like this? I'm an orphan I was raised by your nurse and your mother. If I get in trouble because of this, I have no place to go. I had to tell your father about what I saw."

Angrily, Galynda shook off her hand and stood, her arms crossed.

"How do I know you didn't just make this up?" Millifen insisted. "How do I know that the _real 'Aelphaba'_ isn't some fellow called _'Aelpharic'_? Or that he-she exists at all?"

Then an idea occurred to her, and she quickly got off the bed, headed for the door.

"I know… I know what I'll do, Glyn," she said, turning around briefly on her way out. "Don't worry. I'll fix this. If you were telling the truth, I'm sure there is evidence that will sway your father's mind."

Yet Galynda remained stubborn, her stare fixated on a small fly sitting on the wall. She highly doubted that there was anything now that could salvage her situation, and no amount of effort on her friend's behalf would ever make up for the betrayal she had been subjected to. She was a little worried though as to what kind of plan Millifen's mind had cooked up. By the time that she had finally decided to hesitantly face her, however, her lady in waiting was already long gone.


	9. The Final Fall

_**AN:**_

 _Ok, so I said one more chapter (plus prologue). Well, I realise this is really late already, but uni is just... yeah... So anyway, this is not the last chapter because I split it. the actual last chapter will probably be really short, but i didn't want to let you wait another week or so. So here you go._

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _ **Reader:** Yeah, we'll see... not sure what else to say for now. :) Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting! Hope you're still hanging around and won't find the rest too awful ;)_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _So, as always:_

 _Happy reading! :3_

 _xoxo MLE_

* * *

 **The Final Fall**

That was the last conversation Galynda would ever have with Millifen. Her friend didn't return to help her undress that night, and the following morning, an elderly maid delivered her breakfast. As it turned out, the cranky woman's weathered visage would be the only face she got to see for at least another five weeks. When a footman finally came to escort her out of her room, she was disappointed, although not all too surprised, when she realised that their short trip once again ended in her father's audience chamber.

The first thing she noticed when she saw her father, was how much he had aged in mere weeks. His skin looked ashen and his eyes were sunken in. Breaking off the marriage arrangements with a wealthy and influential city family must have been quite a setback for his grand schemes. For a clock tick, she felt guilty, but then she recalled that perhaps it served him right. She hoped that he looked like this because _he_ felt guilty, too. Yet in her heart, she knew that the chances for this to be the case were slim to say the least.

"Galynda."

He waved her closer and she complied without hesitation. When her father offered her a seat beside his podium, however, she became sceptical.

"Sit," he repeated his order firmly, but not all too harshly. So she sat, her eyes fixed on him, warily.

"Gentlemen."

Her attention was immediately drawn to a small group of six unknown men, who must have been standing amongst the Margreave's staff and counsellors since before she had even entered. They stepped forward, their eyes staring grimly out of their severe and scarred faces. Galynda had no idea what to make out of this and only hoped that the guessing game would end sooner rather than later.

"Five weeks ago, my daughter, your lady in waiting once again requested to talk to me confidentially," the Margreave began to explain. "I sent her away several times, for I was tired of hearing of a matter so utterly pointless."

Galynda bit her lip and cautiously scanned the room out of the corners of her eyes. Even now, Millifen was nowhere to be seen. No matter what had happened between the two women, the she could still feel the bond between them, however fragile it was. She only hoped that her friend, her sister by heart, hadn't gotten into too much trouble because of her.

"But she persisted," her father acknowledged with a certain measure of respect. "Seeing how determined she was, I eventually allowed her to tell her little tale. It was an absurd one to put it mildly, yet anyone who has children will understand what odd things a father's love to his blood will make him do."

Galynda struggled to keep an even expression. Clearly, her and her father's definition of love and varied somewhat. Still, she had to admit that it seemed rather out of character for the old man to waste his time with stories he didn't want to hear.

"Lady Millifen told me of this lover of yours," the Margreave continued, then paused - either for dramatic effect, or because he simply wanted to gauge her reaction, Galynda couldn't quite tell.

Perhaps she was less surprised than he had expected. Five weeks had been ample time to consider all sorts of scenarios and what the grand plan was that her friend had conceived. If Millifen had merely told him about the fact that she had fallen in love and shared her body with a woman, things wouldn't be too bad, she decided. Although the presence of these men gave her an uncomfortable feeling in her gut, warning her that there must be more to this.

"She convinced me that this woman's testimony might help to prove your innocence, or at least provide further clues as to how your unfortunate condition came about. She was able to provide me with quite detailed directions, and touched by her commitment I decided that, as your father, I could not be outdone by her love for you. So I hired a few old friends of mine to retrieve the _Lady of the Waterfall_."

A small chuckle gurgled up from his throat and a few of the attendants joined in. Galynda began to whip her head around, nervously. How much did they know about Aelphaba? Was she waiting somewhere in the shadows of this room? What had they done to her? Was she fettered and manacled? Were they holding her in some dark cell? No, Aelphaba wouldn't even be able to leave her Munchkinland grove! What if these men had forcefully taken her away, causing her to fall ill, or even die! The cheerful mood of the people around her turned into more than mild amusement at her cost. The glee of the onlookers was not only mocking her, it was choking her. If any harm had come to her love, she would never forgive herself.

With a reverberating harrumph, her father restored quiet in the audience chamber.

"As you can easily see, she is not here. Now let us listen to what these gentlemen have to say to this."

She swallowed hard and clutched the armrests of her chair as the men inclined their heads and the Margreave nodded for them to speak.

"My Lord.

"We found the cave we were sent out to find. Or at least we are rather confident that we did. Every detail was exactly as described – the clearing, the waterfall, the small village nearby; we even found wild vine winding its way up the cliffs. But when we entered the cave, there was no sign of life, or recent occupation."

A small gasp escaped Galynda's lips as her hands flew up to soothe the racing heart beating in her aching chest. How was this possible? These men must have been to the wrong cave, or maybe, they had simply not been able to find the right chamber? After all, except for Aelphaba's living quarters, the remaining passages and tunnels and hollows were uninhabited.

"We discovered one chamber, situated right behind the veil of the waterfall," another man continued and out of the sudden, Galynda's heart almost stopped "Someone had clearly left their mark there, though everything was scattered and covered with a thick layer of dust."

Galynda's hands clawed at the fabric of her dress, long nails digging deep into delicate fabric. None of this made any sense. For just the briefest moment, she considered the possibility that Aelphaba had left her cave to look for her, to be with her –

This minuscule flare of hope was extinguished almost immediately, however, when her memory - not quite gently – once again reminded her of Aelphaba's inability to leave her waterfall. And even if she had found a way to overcome the spell, there was still a great assortment of other, far more ridiculous, reasons this obstinate woman had used to argue that their relationship had no future. Galynda sunk back into her chair, clenching her fists even tighter as the pain became progressively worse.

"Are you all right Galynda?"

The young lady jumped a little and her head snapped up. Her father's expression was a strange blend of severity, concern and annoyance. Was her inner turmoil that obvious? She primly cleared her throat and slowly corrected her posture griping the armrests of her chair instead of the dress to keep herself upright.

"I am fine, Father," she replied quietly and, after adding a brief nod, directed her attention back to the group of men. She noticed some of them casting her uneasy side-glances. They almost appeared to be spooked by her.

"Please go on," the Margreave prompted to break the silence.

The man furthest to the back stepped forward, fiddling with a canvas bag.

"This was the only item of interest we found," he announced rather hoarsely and produced a mighty, leather-bound book from his bag

He stepped up the podium and kneeled before the Margreave, presenting him with the hefty tome. The Margreave inspected the cover briefly, then harshly threw the book open. Anxiously, Galynda craned her neck in an attempt to see, but the armrests of her father's chair blocked most of her view. All she could see was the quickly deepening frown on his strained face. He snapped the volume shut with a loud thud and motioned for the man to pass it on to his daughter.

"Have you ever seen this book before?"

She rose to stand on wobbly legs and reached out with eager, albeit trembling hands. Her eyes were fixated on the filthy cover of the book. It did look like the Grimmerie, but she had never seen it in such a horrid condition, so she wasn't quite certain yet. In fact, she didn't want to be certain, for she didn't want it to be true. She silently sent a desperate prayer to Lurline that this was nothing but some old manuscript someone had intentionally, or accidentally left behind in some cave that just happened to have some resemblance with Aelphaba's. Even as these thoughts ran through her head, she knew that this was nonsense.

As soon as she held the volume in her own hands, the familiarity hit her like a landslide, and she heavily fell back into the chair. She could have recognised this book blindly, simply by feeling its weight. As she gently brushed over the cover, more of the golden embellishments revealed themselves. It was the Grimmerie and there was no doubt about it. They had indeed found Aelphaba's cave, strangely deserted, it seemed. Panic gripped Galynda as she tried to find explanations for how these men had come into possession of an item Aelphaba would never have left behind or surrendered.

"What is this, Galynda?" her father demanded. "What is it with this baneful thing that I cannot read a single word?"

Galynda's hands tightened around the Grimmerie as she thought of an answer. Her reaction had already betrayed her – that much was obvious. There was no denying that she knew this book. At first, she intended to simply speak the truth, but a clock tick later, she thought better of it. Her father was upset enough as it was, and since she had yet to find out about Aelphaba's fate, she decided to play it save.

"Father, there is no need to be so troubled. It's only an old religious text, written by prophets serving a deity long forgotten."

The lie came strangely easily to her, almost as though it wasn't her, but the book itself speaking through her. Nervously, Galynda cast a quick look downward. What else would the Grimmerie make her say? Before she could think much more on it, she already heard herself continue.

"Ancient magic protects its wisdom and being able to read as little as one line is a rare gift."

"Can _you_ read any of it?" her father asked apprehensively.

She bit her lip and in her mind, begged the book to provide her with an innocuous response.

"No," she finally said of her own accord, as the Grimmerie appeared to have forsaken her request. "Aelphaba knew how to read it though, and studied it vigorously."

"If you cannot read it, how do you know it is harmless?" the Margreave challenged and Galynda cursed the perfidious book for not helping her out earlier. She swallowed hard and gave the Grimmerie a chance to change its mind again.

"Aelphaba read to me. The words, although foreign, made me feel peaceful and tranquil. No evil could possibly come from such gentle psalms."

It was true that her heart would rejoice, no matter what Aelphaba would read to her, even if it were the directory. Although the Grimmerie might have put this general assumption to a hard test if they had ever tried this. Whenever Galynda had read the book just by herself, a small shudder would run down her spine. And whenever she had been brave enough to attempt casting a spell, pain would shoot through one part of her body, or another. For the first couple of times at least – the pain diminished slightly with practice.

Luckily her father, albeit not entirely convinced by her lie, put the matter of the mysterious book aside for the time being.

"So is this all you came to report on?" he asked the men, who seemed uncertain about how to reply.

"Yes, my lord," the one who had spoken first finally admitted. "There was nothing else of value or interest to be found. We didn't assume that you wished for us to retrieve a pile of old bones."

"Bones!" the Margreave thundered and about everyone in the audience chamber flinched.

"Yes, bones, my lord," the man nodded. "A hand was still tightly gripping the tome, the rest lay in a jumbled pile all around it."

Galynda's ears had barely caught half of the account. _Bones_ and _tome_ were the only words she could remember hearing. Already, she was feeling faint. Sounds around her were rapidly altering between near silence and an unbearable cacophony of noise. Her vision was equally inclined to focus and unfocus, making her sway in her seat like after too many cups of some strong liquor. She held on to the Grimmerie in the hope it would keep her grounded, but instead, it only sucked her in deeper and deeper. A strange energy had begun to flow from the book through her hands and diffusing in her system. With that energy first came a sense of ill boding, followed by a cruel certainty. When her little heart couldn't take it anymore, she trembling slid off her chair.

* * *

When she eventually woke up, she didn't have the willpower to open her eyes. She didn't need to in order to know where she was – she was in her big, feathery bed. The silken sheets and the soft pillows were easy enough to recognise. Further, the smell of Gillikin roses by the window was a sure telltale sign. Those were her last pleasant thoughts before the overwhelming pain struck her.

Exhaling labouredly, she fought the urge to cry out when a dagger bore through her chest. The piercing sensation quickly gained intensity. She gasped, struggling for air and desperately digging her nails into the mattress. In truth, there was no dagger. It was her crushing emotions overrunning her head and every other inch of her body. What had started out as a feeling of weary emptiness had soon turned into absolute hopelessness and desolation, threatening to tear her heart apart. Quite literally. Theoretically, the potion the old witch had given her was supposed to protect her from this to occur, yet this was different. Being separated from her love was one thing; losing her so entirely and absolutely irrevocably was a very different matter altogether.

That she managed catching yet another breath of air was close to a small miracle. The pain by now had become so all-consuming, that her very flash seemed as though it were on fire. She cried out this time, hoping for some relief, but not the slightest sound escaped her strangled throat. If she had to perish, how much longer would it take until this was finally over? As she was still young, she had never spent much time in her life pondering on silly notions about an afterlife. All she could think of now was the dismal awareness that there was no such thing and that all those who had ever told that her loved ones would await her there had been fools, or liars.

Yet she didn't die. After several frightful moments, the first few tears rolled down her cheeks, heralding the torrents that were to come.

She sobbed in quiet, her eyes still closed. She was still hurting, but the salty drops helped her to cope. Bit by bit, they took away the worst of the stinging pain and her heart began to beat stronger in relief. Hours passed, and by the end of the day, all she was left with was woeful grief. It would be with her till her very end, she knew, but she would learn to live with it.

Most importantly, she would _live_.

Startled by this realisation, Galynda twitched once and opened her eyes. Her frowned stare didn't leave the ceiling for a good while. Too confusing were the thoughts tumbling thorough her muddled head. Why did the notion of her survival suddenly feel so strangely profound to her? She would live to carry and birth and raise her child – that's all that seemed important now, but she couldn't explain why.

The child had never mattered to her before, as it had caused her nothing but trouble and pain. Its very existence was inexplicable, unexpected, and above all, undesired. Even after her pregnancy had been confirmed, she had lived in denial, trying not to think of the wee creature growing within her womb. She had been almost certain that her father would order her to get rid of it and clearly remembered growing more irritated by the day as the demand was never made. Now that she knew of the mission he had sent those men on, this finally made sense. And she was grateful, she found. The relief she felt blooming in her chest the more she considered this, was overwhelming. It almost succeeded in drowning out the infinite sadness she felt at the ultimate loss of her love. Almost.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position, dazedly scanning her room, unaware of the hand resting tenderly on the small bump of her stomach. The old maid who had taken care of her the past few weeks was sitting in a stuffed chair by her bed, knitting. As she watched the woman working on what looked like a night cap, so entirely unfazed, Galynda wondered how much of her struggle had been physical, and how much she had experienced only in her head. She had to clear her voice for the servant to even take notice of her. Once the zealous hands had stopped fiddling with the wool and the needles, an annoyed look was cast her way.

Muttering unintelligibly, the maid wiggled off her chair to pick up a small bottle from the nearby end table, counting three drops of a sanguine liquid as they plopped into a porcelain cup.

"Here," she croaked, passing the drink to Galynda.

The young lady inspected the liquid cautiously. It was tea. The drops had coloured it blood-red. Her over-sensitive nose picked up an unknown smell. The smell of death, her subconscious warned her.

"Three drops, three times a day," the old woman told her. "That should get rid of the problem in no time. Sometimes of the woman, too, but the young and health usually stand a good chance."

Galynda stared at her. She placed the cup on her bedside table and folded her hands over her abdomen.

"I wish to speak to my father."

The maid rolled her eyes.

"His lordship will not see you," she huffed and turned her back.

She headed for the bedroom door. Where was she going? Was she looking for help to force the poisonous tea down her throat? Trembling slightly, Galynda slipped out of her bed, unsure how to defend herself should her suspicions be proven right.

The maid soon re-entered the room, holding a bag in her arthritic hands.

"This contains a purse of money, a few modest clothes and provisions. It's this, or the elixir."

It took the blonde barely a second to decide. Her hear in her throat, but knowing it was the only right thing to do, she snatched the bag away from the maid.

"So this is how it's going to be," the woman sighed, uncharacteristically woeful. "Well, if you're sure, you foolish child, I shall show you the way to the servant exit. His lordship wishes not to see you leave."

"What about the book?" Galynda asked as if she didn't care at all about her father.

"What _about_ the book?" the maid echoed.

"I would like to keep it. Where can I find it?"

"As far as I am informed, the men who brought it here, took it away again. Certainly, his lordship does not wish to retain such a devilish artefact."

The younger woman's shoulders dropped. She had no idea what she wanted with the Grimmerie, but she did know she want it.

"Now come, silly girl," the woman said and turned her back without any further comment.

Galynda followed the old maid, the bag tightly pressed against her chest. When the door was pushed open for her and the maid silently nodded her goodbye, she paused. She wasn't going to change her mind, but it was impossible to take this final step without contemplating her past within, and her future outside these familiar walls. Tightening her grip on her bag as if taking encouragement from a new friend and companion, she bobbed her head towards the maid and stepped over the threshold.

Her eyes never leaving their goal, she briskly marched across the courtyard, towards the overgrown arch. The sooner she was out of there, the sooner she could start her new life. She would forget all about being a Margreave's daughter and her fall from grace. She would start over and then it would only be her, her memories of Aelphaba, and soon, their child. Her life wouldn't be great, but it would be _better,_ she told herself over and over again.

"Wait!"

A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Not appreciating the delay of what she had hoped to be a quick departure, Galynda scowled at the young man, who she recognised as one of the stable boys. She had never learnt his name, but that hardly mattered anymore now.

"Don't hold me back, I'm no longer wanted here, so I do not intend to linger."

"I understand, my lady, but-"

"I'm no longer your _lady_ ," she snapped.

The stable boy scratched his arm sheepishly.

"Of course."

A wry smile appeared on Galynda's face.

"Good. Now that we got this out of the way, please excuse me."

Barely had she spoken the last word, she had already turned around again, determined to leave before anyone else would try and stop her. The young man, however, was persistent and lunged forward, grasping her wrist.

"You wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to your horse, would you?" he said, winking with one eye.

Although irritated enough to huff at him, she already felt her resolve wane. It was stupid and sentimental, but she had to admit that she would like seeing Mauve one last time.

"Fine," she ground out between her teeth. "Lead the way, but hurry if you don't want to lose finger or two."

The foolish boy only grinned and grabbed her hand as though he wasn't sure she would actually come with him.

When they reached her horse's stall, she found the animal all tacked up and ready for a ride.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked with wide eyes. The stable boy was already a few feet away, about to slink off.

"He is yours," he shrugged. "And I didn't see anything anyway."

Galynda took the reins, but hesitated.

"Come on already, you're running out of time! Don't overthink this. No one is going to chase you for the horse. Your father wouldn't risk drawing any more attention to the matter."

"Yes, of course…"

Smiling faintly, the blonde unhooked the chain from the stallion's bridle and led him out of the stall. Her hands trembling a little, her first attempts of mounting the tall horse failed, but soon she sat firmly in the saddle and urged Mauve forward.


	10. Crossroads

_**AN:**_

 _Wow, looks like splitting the chapter was a wise decision after all... Man, I should totally stop guessing, estimating, or predicting the length of my chapters, let alone the length of my stories. I totally suck at it xD_

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _ **Guest:** Thanks so much for reading and reviewing again! I_

 _Well, some explanations are included in this chapter, and I hope they are good enough for you - and everyone else for that matter._

 _~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~_

 _Aaaaanyway... So here is the least instalment of the "legend" part of the story. There's still the epilogue, which I'll write as soon as I finished my upcoming assignments, and that's it then. So yeah, here you go!_

 _Happy reading!_

 _xxx MLE :3_

* * *

 **Crossroads**

She rode hard for about half a day, until she found herself struggling to remain in the saddle. The events of the past forty-eight hours were finally catching up with her, and drained of all physical and mental strength, she had no choice but to seek a resting place for the night. The next town was just far enough away from her father's castle to provoke the hope that no one would recognise her there. At the gate, the warden grouchily demanded ten guilders from her, but when she gave him twelve, and enquired about directions to the best accommodations in town, his face brightened, and his deformed mouth twisted into something that almost resembled a smile. He advised against staying at the _Sleepy Shrew_ , although it was the closest inn, and Galynda clearly was in dire need of a bed. Instead, he told her that the _Brittle Barn –_ despite its name _-_ was a real insider tip, and the stomping ground of any local who knew good food and wine. She didn't care much about the food, or the wine at that point, but since the place also appeared to be safer, she decided that is was worth the effort of finding her way through the more hidden streets and alleyways.

Once she had dismounted, the stable hand asked for her horse's reins. She hesitated for a moment, unsure where he would take the stallion, but also unwilling to part from the only friend that was left to her in this unfriendly world. Mauve briefly sniffed her bag, seemingly looking for treats, and when he couldn't find any, he tucked on the lead, stretching his elegant, long neck to see if the young man with the pitchfork might have anything for him. Galynda chuckled a little. Her worries slightly alleviated, she handed over the reins, and quickly scratched her horse's withers before turning towards the door.

After she had entered, the man at the counter continued to watch the entrance expectantly, as though he was assuming that someone else would follow her inside. The petite woman cleared her voice, and noisily dumped her bag onto the wooden tabletop.

"I'm looking for a room for tonight. Nothing too fancy, if you please. I still have a long way to go, and so does my money."

"Oh… yes, of course," the man muttered, and offered her a nonplussed sort of smile. Frowning, he leaved through his books. "I'm afraid, we're almost fully booked, my lady. If you wish to stay the night, you may choose between the barn and the _Lakeview Suite_.

Galynda scowled a little at being addressed as something she no longer was, but let the matter slide. The limited choice of accommodation was actually of much greater concern. She really didn't mind the idea of sleeping on a bed of hey. If she was honest, she might even have preferred the odd familiarity and the proximity to Mauve. On the other hand, she was quite certain that this option was merely meant as a jest, and that the innkeep did not truly intend to allow a young lady (without the company of a chaperon at that) to rest with the horses and rats. She sighed quietly, and nodded.

"Well, I'm tired, and as I won't have enough time to spare and enjoy the wonderful view, I very much hope that at least the bed will be worth its coin."

The man's tortured expression widened into a big grin.

"I guarantee you; you will never have slept better in your entire life. Our beds are well made, and our pillows and duvets are the softest, plushest in all of Gillikin.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, and mastering a fleeting smile instead, she fished for her wallet. Once she had paid, the innkeep stepped out from behind his counter, and led her upstairs. She didn't bother undressing, or even washing her face. Closing the shutters was all she could manage before falling into the generously sized bed.

* * *

Waking up what felt like days later, she experienced a sense of disorientation for a moment. Her tired mind had neglected recording many details of the previous night, and so it took her a little while to piece together the events that had brought her to this place, and into this cosy bed.

"Good morning," she yawned, rubbing the slight bump of her abdomen gently. Then, she dragged herself out of the bed, clumsily stumbling to the next window. With the shutters closed, she wasn't able to tell whether it was night, or day, but as soon as she threw them open, bright light flooded the room, blinding her in the process. She blinked at the glaring sunlight reflecting off the lake, lying peacefully just a few yards away from the town wall. Turning around to preserve her eyesight, she gasped at the sheer size of the room she was currently occupying. It took up at least half of the entire east wing's first floor. Such exorbitance! Being reminded this rudely of the ridiculous amount of money she had had to fork out for this suite, Galynda almost felt dizzy. Her hands flying up to massage her temples, she exhaled noisily, and sat down on the nearby settee.

After a quick clean-up and a very necessary change of clothes, she made her way down to the tavern. Up until later in the afternoon, the area was reserved for guests staying at the inn, yet as the house was full, the dining hall was equally busy. For a moment, the young woman stood in the door, watching the other guests. In vain, she tried to search for an empty table. There were plenty of vacant chairs, of course, but she simply didn't wish to be forced into any conversations with whatever strangers she happened to share table and bread with. She was already about to turn around and forget about breakfast, when she spotted six surprisingly familiar faces.

Her eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched into fists. She could have fled then, but that idea didn't even cross her mind. Her plan was quite the opposite, in fact; with a determined nod to herself, she strode across the hall, until she stood right in front of the men's table.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she greeted them politely, yet with an undertone they were sure not to miss.

One looked up to her, and did a double take. When his comrades picked up on his somewhat stuttered reply, they also craned their heads to look at her, each more perplexed then the other.

"Would you mind offering a lady a seat?"

They exchanged looks, and a man with a grey beard, who looked to be the oldest among them, motioned for one of his fellows to move his knapsack so that Galynda could sit down.

"I apologise for our manners, my lady. I suppose, you caught us on the wrong foot there. May I ask what brings you here -" he cocked his head to see behind her, scratching his head when he confirmed the absence of a travel companion "- all by yourself?"

"I was told that you are in possession of something very dear to me." The men furrowed their brows, and Galynda went on to explain. "My father had no right to give you that book."

"You came all the way to retrieve it? How did you even find us?"

The blonde's lips twitched into a smirk.

"The book. It reached out for me, and I merely had to follow its call."

She could have sworn that at least one of the, oh so brave, men shuddered at that, and the young lad next to her shuffled a couple of inches away from her, causing her to laugh heartily, if only on the inside.

The older man cleared his voice.

"Be that as it may, we received the book as a part of our payment, and we are not going to give it up so easily."

"You are planning to sell it, no? Mhm… how amateurish of you, trying to trade something you know nothing about. How will you even set a price?"

"And you know so much more about this demonic thing?" a chap sitting in the opposite corner piped up.

"I know that as the former owner's widow of sorts, such an heirloom should rightly be passed down to me. Yet I already see, there is no reasoning with unsympathetic souls, such as yourselves. But I will make you an offer: I reimburse you for your loss. Let's say, four hundred guilders?"

Most of the men exchanged unsure looks, but the grey beard only laughed.

"Nice try. But perhaps you're right. If you're willing to part with two hundred guilders more, we're in business."

"Four hundred and fifty, and you are rid of me. Otherwise, I might have to follow you around for as long as the book remains in your hands."

"And why in Oz, would we mind?"

She casually tossed a blonde curl over her shoulder, and fixed the man with an inauspicious glare.

"Because I will make sure that you will never find a buyer for it."

Shaking his head, the old man stroked his chin.

"Five hundred and fifty. That's my last offer."

Galynda released a frustrated huff, mentally counting the money left in her purse. Five hundred and fifty guilders for the Grimmerie would leave her with no more than thirty guilders to live off for however long it would take until she could find a way to earn more. The man was driving a damn hard bargain, but the book was invaluable to her.

"Deal," she finally announced, adopting an air of false confidence. "I take it the book is in your room?"

"No, it's right here." The young man next to her patted the bag on his lap.

She cursed her sluggish brain for not thinking of this earlier. If she had simply approached them quietly, snatched the bag, and run away, there might have been a good chance that they would never have caught her.

"But we won't conclude such a deal in public, of course," the older one of the men interrupted her wild thoughts. Let us share the meal, and then I will show you upstairs to our humble accommodation."

She nodded slowly, warily.

"Naturally, breakfast's on us," the man in the corner snickered, and winked at her.

The exchange of money and book went without a hitch, and with the Grimmerie in her bag, Galynda left the small town, her only goal to get as far away from her former home as possible.

She didn't get too far, however, as after only a mile, or two, the sky suddenly decided to pour all the water in Oz on her. Frustrated, she turned her horse around, and rode back. The warden at the gate almost demanded another ten guilders off her, but then recognised her face, and remembering her generosity the day before, he opened the battered oaken door for the drenched young woman. Finding refuge under the protruding roof of a tiny chapel, she rubbed her cold arms for some minimal comfort. Being back in the town was all well and good, but where was she going to stay now? Her funds had melted like snow in spring, and another night at an inn was no longer within her meagre budget.

Studying the mossy walls of the chapel, she wondered whether there was a convent nearby that offered a cot and a bowl of gruel to those in need. Indeed, she found such a building, though she wouldn't have recognised it as such if it hadn't been for a group of maunts filing out of the backdoor of the chapel, and hurrying inside the austere, one-story brick building right next to it. Hopeful, she, too, scampered through the rain, and caught the last maunt, just before she could close the door on her. She briefly described her situation, but the elderly woman, scrutinising her critically the entire time she spoke, had no sympathy for her.

"We reserve our hospitality for those in dire need. Seeing the cloth you wear and the horse you ride, you clearly do not qualify," she spat. "Be ashamed for yourself, asking for things you could easily afford yourself. Every meal you scavenge from fleeceable folks is a meal that might cost a truly poor man's life. Have a good day."

Just like this, the door was slammed shut. Galynda remained standing in the pouring rain, staring at it. The maunt's words had struck a chord within her, and she suddenly felt guilty. At the same time, she knew that she wasn't pretending. She actually did need help, even if she didn't look it.

She jumped, when a warm hand touched her wet, cold arm.

"Poor thing," a stout brunette cooed several times, moving up and down her arm, until she finally contented herself with patting her hand.

Galynda watched her with raised eyebrows, trying to think of one good reason why she shouldn't pull her hand away.

"Excuse me," she said tentatively, and the woman removed one of her hands to push her spectacles up her nose.

"You poor thing," she repeated one last time, her expression not only compassionate, but almost heartbroken. "Heartless old hag that one. Or maybe only blind." Her eyes fell onto Galynda's abdomen. "Come, dearie, my house is just around the corner."

She wrapped her arms around the younger woman's shoulders, and gently, yet firmly guided her across the street. During their short walk she began to talk almost incessantly. All Galynda could remember afterwards, was that her name was Ralda. Mauve followed them, shaking off the water every few steps. When they arrived at the narrow brick house, two shaggy ponies greeted them with noisy whinnies. Simply tied to a sturdy fence, they, too, were dripping with rainwater, but hardly seemed to care.

"I hope these aren't mares," Galynda said, worriedly turning around to her stallion. The spoiled steed looked hesitant, apparently not approving of the accommodation awaiting him.

"No need to worry. The fat white one is Yolly, and the tiny roan is Rolly. They are our two Munchkin geldings. We also have bigger horses. My husband's brother is a breeder, you know? But they are all grazing out of town, of course. We just like to keep the little ones close. They are so handy, and barely take up any space. And when I go out to sell my products, I let them do all the carrying and pulling."

"So you're a merchant?" Galynda asked, and the woman laughed.

"Not exactly. I'd call myself an opportunist."

The blonde tilted her head.

"I see. Well, thank you for offering your hospitality. But if I may be so bold, I would like to ask for just one last favour."

"Sure, what is it, darling?"

"You don't happen to have a thick blanket for my horse? He isn't used to such adverse conditions."

"No, I can see that," Ralda commented amused, watching the large, grey horse shiver. "What a big namby-pamby palfrey! Well, we have just the right place for him. Come along, at the back of the house there's a nice, dry stall."

Galynda and Mauve were led to a wooden shed. There were two stalls, and one was already occupied by another horse – one that immediately caught the younger woman's eye.

"I know this horse!" she exclaimed without thinking, staring open-mouthed at the heavy piebald Glikkun Dray."

"You do?" The woman blinked surprised.

"Yes. Yes, I do. I-I met this witch in Munchkinland. She gave me a ride with her caravan. This is her horse, I'm sure."

Comprehension dawned on her host, and she merrily clapped her hands.

"Oh! So you met ol' mother Hex! Yes, that's what we call her here. A most peculiar character, she is, but she leaves us alone, so we leave her alone."

"So she lives here?"

Galynda remembered the day the two of them had parted ways as thought it had been yesterday. The ancient crone had mentioned something about living nearby, and thinking back now, the blonde could not fathom, why she had never considered looking for her. She didn't know how much help the old woman would be, as events had already taken such an unfortunate turn. But surely she would be able to provide her with some answers. Now that she had realised the possibility, Galynda was dying to learn more about what had happened to her, and maybe even Aelphaba.

"Oh please, tell me where I can find the witch," she begged, enthusiastically grabbing the other woman's hands. "I need to see her immediately. I have urgent matters to discuss with her."

"I'm sorry, cupcake, but I'm afraid she is away again, plying her trade up and down the country. She does have a small shop here, but she only tends to it when she feels like it."

Her budding hope shattered all too quickly, Galynda let her shoulders slump.

"How is she going anywhere without her horse," she mumbled, carelessly waving her hand at the black and white horse in the stall.

"Well, if you'd just look a little closer, you will see that this horse is a female, and in foal. This is why we keep her close to home."

"Oh." Galynda blushed at her foolishness.

"The witch's horse is a gelding as you might have noticed," Ralda grinned. "But I wouldn't fault you. In fact, she is his sister, and judging by their looks they even could be twins. Only she was born two years after him. We own the dam, and my husband's brother bred the sire."

The blonde only nodded mutely. If she was honest, she didn't quite care about the horse's pedigree. Once the excitement over almost finding the witch had faded, the cold had returned, and she began to tremble like a leaf. She needn't say anything, as her host noticed soon enough, and apologised for getting carried away. They prepared the second stall for Mauve, adding some fresh straw to the old bedding, and placing some hay into the manger.

Finally inside, Galynda met the woman's husband and their domestic aid Caya, an elderly Horse. Galynda found it strange at first that the couple kept horses, as well as a Horse, but at the same time, she supposed that it was also oddly fitting. She herself had never dealt much with Animals, and quietly wondered whether Caya could talk to the ponies and the piebald mare and maybe Mauve as well. She never asked though, too scared to come across as stupid, or even offensive.

After one night, Troomph, the husband, wanted her gone. It wasn't anything personal, he explained to her, but with winter approaching fast, he had to start planning on how to feed his own during the cold and fruitless season. Not in the least ready to be once again on her own, Galynda offered to trade her few belongings for a prolonged stay. Although rather grudgingly, he accepted the more luxurious of her dresses as payment for another two months.

After this period had also passed, her situation had hardly improved. She had tried so very hard to find work in town to support herself, but no one wanted to employ a stranger – and a pregnant one at that. Resigned, she began to prepare her bag for another lonely trip on her search for a new place to stay.

As it happened, Troomph's brother came over for dinner that night. She had met him a couple of times before. First, when the Glikkun Draft foal was born, and then again when he came around to shoe the ponies' hooves. This time, the reason for his visit was less apparent, until he made Galynda a difficult offer.

"I own a modest dwelling in town," he explained as he helped himself to a generous helping of Sunday roast. "It used to be my father's shop, but it could just as well be used for residential purposes."

Although Galynda was unsure why the man eyed her so intently while talking about his property, an uncomfortable feeling began to upset her still empty stomach.

"I've heard that you need a place to stay," she said, finally coming to the meat of the matter. "I've also heard that you don't have any money, but quite frankly, you're sitting on a real asset without even making good use of it."

The young woman paused, placing the spoon of food back onto the plate. Her face tilted down, and chewing her lip, she wearily watched him through her thin fringe.

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"I've seen your stallion. He's quite a sight for sore eyes. If you'd sell him, you'd have enough money for your own place, _and_ for the winter."

"No," Galynda replied flatly. Clearly, this was not an option - or at least she wished it didn't have to be. However, after a lengthy discussion that lasted until late in the night, the deal was struck. Many a tear was spilled in the dark once she had reached the safety of her tiny room. The next morning, she rushed down the stairs, and to Mauve's stall. She hugged him, and kissed his soft nose, her cheeks still glistening from the salty tracks that were evidence of her terrible night.

"I'm so sorry, so, so sorry," she whispered over and over again, bestowing the stallion with more kisses and little touches.

Troomph's brother came to pick him up around noon, bringing with him the key to her now home. As she watched him mount the horse that was no longer hers, a few more tears rolled over her red face. Trying to swallow them, she patted her round belly. She had done the right thing. Not so much for herself, but for her child.

Ralda insisted on helping her with the move – which really wasn't too big a task, considering her meagre pile of possessions – and more importantly, with making the small house liveable. Entrusted with some of Galynda's money, the older woman procured a few essentials, such as new linen and a set of pots. Many other items were already included in the bargain, but needed a good cleaning after slumbering under a thick layer of dust for several long years. Before she bid her goodbye in the evening, Ralda surprised Galynda with a bassinet one of the neighbours had donated. All in all, things went quite well, and if the sale of her beloved horse wouldn't have been nagging her conscience so constantly, she surely would have been at least somewhat cheerful.

Her mood did improve, however, when one morning, urgent rapping on her window ripped her from her dreams.

"She's here, she's back!" Ralda exclaimed, when the young woman, still rubbing her eyes, opened the door.

"She? Who?"

But Ralda didn't get a chance to clarify, since Galynda's mind quickly put one and one together: it was the witch; the witch had finally returned. She thanked her friend for the news, and quickly scurried to her bedroom to pull on her day dress. Of course, she already long knew where the witch's business was located, and she even knew the fastest route. Despite her anything but efficient waddling gate and her terribly aching back, it took her less than ten minutes to arrive at the bizarre chemist-fortune telling-magic shop. She ripped open the door with all her might, and the delightful ring of a silver bell that was attached to it announced her visit.

Initially, the witch didn't bother to look up, or even greet her potential customer. Jotting down some notes on yellowed sheets of paper, she acted as though she were too busy to give anyone the time of day. Galynda waited impatiently a few feet away, struggling to feign a calm exterior. On their trip from Munchkinland to Gillikin, she had spent enough time with the eccentric, old woman to know that the witch's time was hers alone to command. Any form of pestering, no matter how subtle, would ultimately only prolong her waiting. It almost seemed like a test of character, or perhaps, a demonstration of dominance. Only when the witch deemed her opposite worthy, she slowly put down her quill, and lifted her chin, squinting to recognise the figure in the distance.

Understanding the gesture as her cue to approach, Galynda tentatively stepped closer, until the crone's sparse eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

"What a surprise to see you here, poppet," she greeted the younger woman in her usual creaky voice. She almost seemed delighted, until her eyes fell on Galynda's abdomen. "I don't deal with these sort of potions," she said gruffly, turning her back.

"That's not why I'm here," the blonde immediately declared, taking a passionate step forward.

The witch craned her head, tilting it in an impossible angle.

"Speak then, what do you want from me."

"Answers. Although I don't know if you have any," the blonde added with subdued confidence.

Taking her sweet time to respond, the old witch watched her for a while, her eyes darting about at an unsettling speed. Once she seemingly had made up her mind, she bobbed her head left and right, humming to herself.

"Do me a favour poppet, yes?"

Galynda nodded eagerly, although the witch had already begun to shuffle in the opposite direction, headed for a doorway, concealed by a heavy curtain.

"Turn the sign so it reads _'closed.'_ And Take the large bottle of red fluid out of the window, to let the illiterate folks know as well."

The younger woman quickly did as she was told, and followed the witch as soon as possible into the adjoining room. There, a cosy fire was crackling in the fireplace, and the old crone was just about to pour some tea.

"Oh poppet," she sighed, shaking her head as she sat down, "to be honest, knowing which potion you chose, I'm surprised to find you in such a delicate condition. I do hope this little mishap was not the doing of some overly obtrusive young lad who didn't take no for an answer?"

"Not at all," Galynda replied, hiding her blush by taking a big gulp of her tea.

The witch grunted.

"Well, I do not care then. Now out with it, why do you seek me?"

"This _is_ about the child," Galynda confessed, and the ancient woman made a noncommittal sound. "Oh, I'm quite sure your disinterest will dissipate in a clock-tick," the blonde promised. "The child is Aelphaba's. I'm certain of it, for I never lay with any man."

Suppressing a cough after she almost choked on her drink, the witch eyed her curiously. Galynda had been right. The old eyes were keener now, almost glowing from excitement, and the tips of her gnarly fingers were restlessly tapping against each other.

"How peculiar. I only wonder why you are here then, and not on your way to Munchkinland. By the looks of it, you must have had some time to make the necessary arrangements."

Galynda's face paled at that.

"Yes, well… I'm afraid I have not much left to go back for," she murmured, her voice becoming more choked towards the end of her sentence.

She waited for the witch to nod in comprehension, or something, but annoyingly the old had didn't move a muscle, expectantly waiting for an explanation instead. The blonde groaned inwardly, but did her best not to affront her.

"My father sent out men to find Aelphaba. Upon their return, they delivered the Grimmerie, and reported that all they found in the cave were bare bones."

"Where is the book now?"

Galynda shouldn't have been surprised at the witch's keen interest in the magic book, yet she was still rather taken aback by her blatant ignorance of tact. She bit back the hurt. After all, she still wanted her help.

"I… It's at my home, well hidden – not that anyone knows about it. It was through the book that I learned about Aelphaba's death. I don't' know what happened, but sadly, I'm very sure that it is true."

"Nothing but a pile of bones left, ey?" the witch asked thoughtfully. "Well, that makes sense."

Galynda's head snapped up.

"How so?"

"Whatever spell bound her to the waterfall and preserved her youth for so long must have obstructed the flow of time. Once the spell was broken, nature had quite some catching up to do."

The blonde almost dropped her mug. Hands shaking, she hurriedly placed it on the table, spilling some of the hot liquid.

"You… you think she found a way to break free from the spell and died because of it?" she breathed, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Not impossible. However, I believe it almost more likely she died and the spell released the dead body."

No longer able to hold back her tears, Galynda closed her eyes, covering her mouth with her hands. Her head slowly sank to the table, and her shoulders racked with violent sobs. She hadn't cried much after that one time, for it seemed like no amount of tears would ever be enough to express her grief. She had tried to ignore the pain as best she could, and to be strong for her child. But there was only so much a mourning lover could bear.

"H-how could she just die?" she hiccupped later, the witch still sitting opposite her, dispassionately witnessing the scene before her, and waiting for the younger woman to calm down on her own.

"I don't want to make wild guesses. Might have been desperation, might have been a broken heart. The result is the same, so what difference does it make?"

It did make a difference to Galynda, but she knew better than to voice her opinion.

"So you came to ask me about how that child of yours came about," the witch stated, at last returning to the beginning of their conversation. Galynda only sniffled in reply, yet this answer was already more than sufficient.

"I'm not aware of any recorded side effects quite like this, but the magic in the potion I gave you is very strong. There might have been similar cases in the past, but you see, they could easily have been overlooked. I assume that most lovers cured this way were pining after someone of the opposite sex. In that case, it would seem farfetched to suspect any unnatural causes. Perhaps, the quantity of her essence was simply substantial enough, and located in the right place for this unusual gravidity to occur."

Hours later, back in her own bed, Galynda couldn't find any sleep. Questions she had sought answers for had been answered, yet the anticipated satisfaction never came. Feeling incredibly lonely and hopeless, she began to sing – first to herself, then to her unborn child. The little creature inside her womb seemed to like the gentle melody, and began to poke her with its tiny hands and feet. A watery smile graced her lips then, and she continued to sing, wishing Aelphaba could witness this tiny miracle. Only when the first pink of morning began to tinge the dark horizon, and the first few birds joined in in her song, she gradually found herself drifting off.

* * *

She was woken by a sensation that was far less pleasant than the tiny baby kicks. Her entire abdomen was as hard as a rock, and her breaths came in laboured gasps, as a hitherto unknown pain ripped her body. Already the small effort of pushing herself in an upright position made beads of sweat appear on her brow. She needed help – that much was obvious – only, she couldn't decide where to drag her aching body with the little strength she had to spare. Her choice was between her friend Ralda and the witch; who would be best equipped to help her in this unforeseen situation?

Her mind not yet made up, she had barely managed to shuffle to the front door, when her legs gave in beneath her, causing her to fall to the hard, stone tiled floor. She tried to use a chair to pull herself up again, but the attempt remained fruitless. Cursing, she slammed a fist against the indifferent wood. Tears sprang to her eyes in face of her helplessness – as if she hadn't cried enough already the night before.

She sat like this all morning and until the early afternoon, until rescue came in form of Ralda's Horse maid, who had been sent to deliver a pie. Not receiving an answer after knocking several times, the Mare entered the house, intent on placing the food on the kitchen table, and leave again. To her great shock, she found Galynda, lying on the floor, and shivering.

Galynda took barely any notice of all this. The next thing she knew, was that she was back in her bed when she opened her eyes, the wrinkly, old face of the witch hovering above her.

"Oh, good that you're with us again," her creaky voice filtered through to the blonde's ear, although it seemed somewhat muffled. "I was almost worried that the concoction I mixed you was too strong."

"What's wrong?" Galynda asked, unable to produce more than a soft whisper.

"Your child is in distress. If we don't act quick, she will die."

Despite the pain and exhaustion, Galynda's eyes grew wide.

"She?"

But the witch ignored her. She placed her knobby, mottled hands on her tight abdomen, and stroked it carefully, murmuring indistinctively to herself. At first Galynda strained to keep her head up, so she could see what was happening, but the exertion soon proved too much. Her head nestled in the sweat drenched, yet still fluffy pillow, she once again felt her conscience slipping away. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Slap.

A rather ungentle wakeup call immediately brought her back to the light, and the pain, which only seemed to have intensified.

"Mustn't fall asleep now," the witch scolded her harshly. Then, her eyes softened somewhat. "I spoke to the child, and I know what she needs."

Galynda could feel her heart making a little jump in her chest.

"What? What do we do?"

"You were too greedy. It would seem the wee thing needs more of her other than you were willing to give," the witch explained not very helpfully.

The blonde cried out at another jolt of pain.

"What… What are you saying?" she gasped. "Do I have to die for her to live? Is that it?" Shaking her head, she closed her eyes again. 'Well, if taking my wretched life will safe her, I'm glad to give it to her."

"Silly girl," the old crone grunted. "I'm not speaking of you. It's her other mother's life force she needs. You're holding on to it too desperately."

Galynda's eyes snapped open.

"Aelphaba's? But how?"

"Luckily, this one is easy. The solution is very simple, really."

She turned her back to rummage through a large satchel leaning against the wall. When she finally found what she had been searching, she pressed a small, yet heavy vial into the pale, weak hand.

"I trust you know what this is."

Galynda's hand closed around the delicate vessel, and she nodded, her head dizzy.

"Than go ahead and drink."

The plan seemed so simple: all she had to do was drink the potion, so that Aelphaba's presence which was still residing within her would be free to transfer to her child. She would forget all about her lover, but their child would live. Yes, it was that easy.

Turning her head away from the potion and in the direction of the window, Galynda swallowed hard. Never before had something so simple been this difficult.

The witch's patience was running out. She plucked the vial from the blonde's hand, and uncorked it.

"Perhaps I was wrong," she admitted. "Perhaps, she has never been yours to keep. What if this happened on purpose? What if this is her way to break free from her ensnared existence? Now hurry and take this potion, or it might be too late."

Under pain and great difficulty, Galynda drew herself up in the bed. Resting one hand on her abdomen, she reached out with the other. The little vial suddenly appeared even heavier before, and the witch had to assist her in lifting it to her chapped lips.

"To my love," she breathed, and zestfully threw her head backwards to ensure that all of the liquid found its way down her throat. The taste of the potion was more pleasant than she had expected. In fact, it was much less offensive than the bitterness and foul taste of the other elixir she had taken all those months ago.

Tired, she sunk back into her pillow. This time, the ancient crone did not admonish her when she drifted off to a tearful sleep.

* * *

The day Galynda chose to wake up was marked by terrible storms and heavy rainfall. It was in the glaring light of a stroke of lighting, that she first beheld the face of the small girl lying next to her. Once she had made eye contact, the infant squeaked happily, reaching for her nose. She was a lovely sight, and Galynda immediately fell in love with those unusual pastel green eyes, wondering, how the child had acquired such a rare trait.

Alerted by the child's sounds, the witch soon shuffled through the door, carrying a bowl of porridge.

"How long have I been out?" the younger woman asked, confused, trying to establish how old the babe next to her might be.

"Seven days," came the answer, and Galynda was puzzled. "The little one is a real survivor," the old crone said snickering. Didn't even need my help to find the breast once I paid her on your chest."

Galynda's face turned deep read, but of course, she was grateful for the witch's help, and for the fact that her daughter was strong and healthy.

"Should give her a name. Methinks, after coming this far, she deserves one."

Studying the girl intently, Galynda tried her best to come up with a suitable name, but none came to mind.

"How do you like Aelphaba?" the witch asked, her face taking on an almost mischievous quality.

The blonde stiffened. The name triggered something deep within her, something like a faded memory, buried beneath time. Shrugging to herself, she pushed the odd feeling aside to consider the witch's suggestion. The name was pretty, but too exotic for this rural town, she decided.

"Maybe something more humble. I'll think of something, but for now, I'm sure she can hold out just another day, or two."

Apparently satisfied with this answer, the witch nodded. She packed her satchel, and declared that is was time for her to tend to her own business for a short while, before returning around suppertime to see if everything was in order and everyone was well. The door fell shut moments later, and Galynda was for the first time alone with the newborn, lovingly cradling the little girl in her arms, and kissing her forehead.

All but forgotten, the Grimmerie remained in its hiding place for many, many years. Upon Galynda's death, the witch returned to the house to retrieve it. And with that, her purpose had been fulfilled. She opened the book, and disappeared in it.


	11. Epilogue

_**AN:**_

 _Oh my gosh, I finally did it!_

 _Sorry for another delay - I promise it will be last, because here comes the last instalment for this story!_

 _One quick note: Towards the end some words and some dialogues are taken directly from the book, but it's not much, I promise ;)_

 _I'd like to thank everyone who has read this, and especially those amazing ppl who followed, favourited and reviewed!_

 _And now with no further ado, I give you: THE WAY TOO LONG EPILOGUE :P_

 _Happy reading!_

 _xoxo MLE_

* * *

 **Epilogue**

"And you truly believe that this was what actually happened to Saint Aelphaba?"

Glinda, allowing her usual facade of hauteur and confidence to slide momentarily, shifted uncomfortably in her seat while watching her strange guest with anxious anticipation. For reasons not quite tangible to her, the allegedly true tale of that women, who had lived so very long ago, had touched her deeper than she could ever have foreseen. Was it all mere soppy sentimentalism, because her nostalgic feelings for Elphaba, her Elphie, made her draw far too many parallels between the past and the present? Even if it was, she couldn't shake these strange feelings of sympathy, and even personal loss, no matter how unwarranted they seemed.

The ancient crone she had met at the orphanage was sitting in the opposite armchair, stroking the old, beaten copy of _Lives of the Saints_ with her thin, talon-like fingers.

"Oh, old Yackle does not _believe,_ silly girl. I _know_ , for I was there."

About to reach for the cup of tea sitting on the end table beside her, the blonde retracted her right hand mid air, enclosing it with her left to suppress the slight tremble that had gripped it. She really couldn't tell what had come over her. The woman's revelation made this already difficult to stomach story sound even more absurd – no matter how weathered and wrinkly she may have appeared, there was simply no feasible way that she was _that_ old. This was common sense, Galynda's head told her. Yet strangely, her heart was still inclined to believe her.

Giving up on her tea, she folded her hands in her lap to prevent them from fidgeting around.

"And the other young woman," she began hesitantly in an attempt to prove that there was still at least an ounce of shrewdness left in her muddled mind, "was her name truly…"

At first it seemed as though the ancient woman had not heard her. Absentmindedly and stock-still, she stared into the pompous nothingness of Glinda's hotel suite. Then, with a small start, her body sprang back to life.

"Well, it very well might have been," Yackle admitted without batting an eyelash. Her lips twitched into a crooked grin, baring her even more crooked teeth. "I mean, I am fairly old after all and my memory does not serve me as well as it used to. Besides, remembering names has never been my strong suit."

Glinda nodded mutely. There was a long pause, during which the old crone contently continued fingering the brittle pages of the book in her lap, while Glinda just watched her, unsure what to say.

"Why did you come here?" the young Lady Chuffrey finally heard herself ask.

Raising her eyebrows, the older woman cocked her head.

"This, I told you the moment I stepped into this room." She lifted the book and offered it to Glinda. "The children at the orphanage wanted you to have this. It was all they can do to show their gratitude."

Glinda reached out to take the book from Yackle, but found that the crone still held it tightly in her hands. Then she remembered something.

"This book is very dear to the child who owns it. She would never give it up so easily."

With one swift motion, Yackle removed her hands from the volume to clasp the younger woman's. Digging her grubby claws into the silky-smooth flesh, she drew herself closer.

"Fine, you're a little blonde, so I will spell it out to you: I came to give fate a little nudge. You, poppet, were meant to change your friend's future."

The breath hitched in her throat, and Glinda swallowed hard to find her voice.

"I… _what_?"

"Yes, yes. I can feel it." Wrinkly hands loosened their grip slightly and began to stoke in a slow, steady rhythm. Although no longer physically locked in place, Glinda couldn't move. "So many, many lost opportunities already. It didn't have to come to this. Pity. Pity. Time is running out, you know, poppet?"

The blonde shook her head frantically.

"I-I don't understand."

"Oh but you do. Only you don't see it yet."

And with that, Yackle released the blonde's hands and leaned back in her armchair, reaching for the satchel leaning against its side.

"Well, it's time I take my leave. Much to do still and the day is growing short. These nasty, snotty brats won't feed themselves."

As the ancient crone heavily heaved herself out of the soft chair, Glinda jumped to her feet as well.

"Please, you need to tell me more. I still do not know what you want me to do!"

"Be the ripple that steers her away from the dreadful end she's headed towards, that's all," the woman replied lackadaisically, as if it were quite simple. She was already slowly shuffling towards the door, and sudden panic grabbed Glinda by the throat.

"Wait!" she yelped in a terribly high-pitched voice.

"I shan't tell you how, and I most certainly do not know what will await you or her once your mission is fulfilled. But you know all you need. No point for me wasting more time."

"The book! I cannot keep it!"

The blonde's eyes found the volume lying opened on the floor. She didn't recall setting it down, or even dropping it. The page that was showing was the beginning of the chapter on Saint Aelphaba. Almost shocked, she stared at it for a moment too long, and soon heard the click of the door. Tearing her eyes away from the book, she whirled around to rush to the door. When she opened it, there was no sign of the odd woman.

Bewildered, Glinda closed the door after staring into the empty hallway for no less than ten minutes. She crossed the room, her thoughts reeling. Hoping to calm her frayed nerves, she took a sip of her tea before stooping down to pick up the fragile book.

What could that old crone possibly know about her? And how did she know about her ties with Elphaba? Did she even know about Elphaba, or was it just her jumping to conclusions, manipulated by that outlandish hag? She read Aelphaba's name and bit her lip. No. This couldn't even be pushed aside as a lucky guess. That Yackle must be onto something.

It was still early, but Glinda decided that it was high time she settled down for the night. Perhaps, a decent period of rest would help her to make sense of the odd events that had transpired this evening. She carefully stowed away the book in the bottom drawer of the quoxwood bureau by the window, and disappeared into the bathroom for her evening routine.

When Chuffrey returned in the middle of the night, his wife was still awake. All attempts at falling asleep had been unsuccessful, and even her favourite hypnospell had failed her. But she didn't want her husband to know that she had heard him coming in, or that she could smell the familiar odour of long business nights, this unappealing blend of sweat, alcohol and expensive cigars. So she squeezed her eyes shut and willed her breathing to even out. And at least that much was no problem for her. Unsuspecting, the baronet climbed into bed next to her, and pulled the blanket up to his nose. Within clock ticks, his soft snoring confirmed that he was fast asleep, while for Glinda the night dragged on for several more hours.

* * *

The following morning, she was blessed with a late awakening. When she lazily turned in her bed, she discovered that Chuffrey was already gone. Instead of him, she found a note he had left behind on his pillow. He was meeting a potential new business partner for lunch, it said. She sighed. She understood that her husband was very ambitious, and in general she thought that his idea to diversify his economic base in Munchkinland and to start investing in pork futures was next to brilliant; but quite frankly, she'd had enough of this boring place and from being cut off so entirely from the hustle and bustle of the capital.

But before she could waste too much time on sulking, it occurred to her that Chuffrey's absence was actually rather convenient. With fresh enthusiasm, she slipped out of bed and rang the bell to call her maid for assistance with her morning toilette. After a quick look into her wardrobe, she decided on a fantasy in a lovely salmon-pink – this was her first time wearing this outfit, so she was a little worried. Yet once she had inspected herself in the mirror, she decided that it suited her like a dream.

Unfortunately, Chuffrey was using their private carriage, so Glinda had no choice but to ask the receptionist to organise a cab for her. A little impatient, a tightly wrapped package containing the orphan girl's book in hand, she sat on the couch in the foyer, waiting for the bellboy to call her name. The cab didn't take as long as she had feared, and soon she was on her way back to the orphanage.

Disembarking the carriage, she quickly pressed a handkerchief against her mouth and nose. How could she have forgotten the terrible stench after less than three days? Steeling herself, she put it away again before knocking on the weather-beaten door.

To her surprise, the door was opened by an entirely unknown woman. Instead of the ugly, old crone, a much younger, yet even uglier female stood before her. For a second, she stared at the stranger blankly, but once she regained her footing, she offered her a bright smile.

"Good day, miss. I am Lady Chuffrey. I visited this establishment just a couple of days ago to make a donation."

The woman curtly nodded her understanding. She made no move to invite Glinda inside, or to at least ask how she could help.

"I am looking for an elderly woman, named Yackle as far as I know."

"That old bat hasn't shown up the past two days," came the gruff reply. Must have died in what ever hole she lives. Ghastly old thing looked like she was long overdue."

The blonde was left nonplussed, not only by Yackle's disappearance, but also by the other woman's indifference and uncouthness.

"I see," she finally said, averting her gaze for a moment to collect her thoughts. There was not much more left for her to say, so she simply pressed the package into the rude woman's hands and took a step back, signalling her cabbie to ready himself. "This belongs to one of the girls. Please see to it that it is returned to her."

With that, she turned around, hurrying back to her carriage. The driver helped her up the steps and inside the vehicle. Then, he swiftly swung himself back into his seat and clicked the reins.

On her way back to the hotel, Glinda pondered what she should do. She had hoped to ask Yackle a few more questions – partially, because she almost believed that at least half of this odd conversation the prior afternoon had only occurred in her confused head.

Yet with the ancient crone's disappearance, any chances of receiving further information had evaporated. With no other clues to go by, she thought back to everything Yackle had said. Most of all, she remembered how Yackle had stressed that she would not tell her _how_ to help Elphaba. Time was running out she had said instead, for too many opportunities had already been lost.

Opportunities. What opportunities? Opportunities to do what? To _prevent_ what? Glinda knew barely anything about Elphaba's current life, or even her whereabouts. The only thing she'd heard of her in years, was Yackle's insinuation that something bad might happen to her sooner or later.

Leaning back in her seat, she exhaled deeply. She watched the grey scenery of Center Munch pass by, as she burrowed herself deeper and deeper in her most remote memories.

Lost opportunities.

Well, for one, she hadn't been able to prevent Elphaba from running away and traveling to the Emerald City - if that was the sort of thing the ancient crone had meant to hint at. That trip had been a pretty terrible idea on Elphaba's part, and Glinda had failed to hold her back. But she had gone with her at least, so no one could fault her for not trying.

Thoughts of their journey to the capital came rushing through her head, making her face flush bright red. No one else but the two of them knew what exactly had transpired on this trip. Especially at night, in those cold, tiny rooms in those dilapidated inns they were forced to stay at. As more and more details of those nights enfolded, she couldn't put in words how glad she was to be the only passenger of this carriage.

However, the hot blush disappeared immediately, when more recollections of her failures hit her like a train. With a painful sting in her heart, she remembered the night that she had first cried out Elphaba's name in ecstasy. In hindsight, she was ashamed to say that she had simply been too proud to admit to her emerald roommate and travel companion how much she really needed her. And then there was that last time – not in a cheap room above the kitchen of some pub, but in a big, comfy bed at an almost fancy Emerald City hotel in the buzzing city centre. Despite how amazing it had been, and how free she had felt, she had not been brave enough to admit how very much she loved her Elphie.

She sniffled and hurriedly rifled through her clutch to find the handkerchief from earlier to dap her eyes with it. She must have lost it, for it was nowhere to be found. Begrudgingly, she used the tip of her scarf, which was no longer wearable once the runny mascara had stained it. Then, she thought of that final time that she had failed, and another set of tears she was unable to choke back rolled down her pale cheeks. She remembered the last time that she had seen Elphaba like it had been yesterday. And she remembered how she had remained sitting idly in that Oz-damn coach, too impotent to stop Elphaba when she was quickly slipping away, disappearing in the faceless crowd.

The cap came to a halt in front of the hotel she and Chuffrey were staying at. Taking a deep breath and dapping her eyes one more time, Glinda waited for the driver to open the door. She tipped the man generously, and walked up the steps to the large entrance with the green glass doors and the golden handles. The porter bowed as he opened the door for her.

Traversing through the huge lobby with quick steps, barely measured enough to be considered appropriate for a lady of her age and standing, she almost ran into her husband. She managed to come to a halt just a few inches before him, while he reached out with his arms, resting his hands gently on her upper arms as though to ensure, as discreetly as possible, that she wouldn't step on his feet, or even bump into him.

"My darling," he said, placing a brief kiss on her right cheek, "I just sent the maid to call for you, but as I can see that is no longer necessary."

When she met his pale grey eyes, she could read the questions in them, and began to refine her story in her head. She was about to open her mouth, when Chuffrey turned to his right to point out his company – four diminutive Munchkins whom she had previously completely overlooked.

"Glinda dear, may I introduce Master Feldensteen and his family: wife Friina with daughters Keekii and Flaanda."

Glinda covered her surprise with a sweet smile and nodded politely.

"Glinda Chuffrey, formerly Galinda Arduenna of the Uplands," she said, shaking the couple's hands and stooping down to kiss the children's foreheads.

"I hope you are in the right mood for some entertainment this afternoon, dearest. I just invited Master Feldensteen to join us on a little trip to the Mossmere game-park. They are from the opposite end of Munchkinland, and can you imagine this; the girls have never seen dragons, or Pfenixes before!"

"Oh, what a splendid idea," Glinda agreed. After all that dismal talk and the dreadful remorse, she needed some distraction. If she really had to devise a plan to safe her Elphie from whatever uncertain fate that was awaiting her, she had to do so on a refreshed mind. The park promised to be a lark. She, too, had never seen a dragon before. Or a Pfenix for that matter. Neither had her husband; she was quite certain, that he only meant to seem more well-versed than he truly was. She cast another quick look at Chuffrey's business partner and his wife. Even for Munchkin standards, their attire was little impressive. However, if her husband was trying this hard to impress them, they surely must be valuable allies.

Apart form the almost two-hour coach ride to the shores of Mossmere, the excursion was great fun. The girls displayed just as much excitement as Glinda carefully concealed. At one point, Lady Chuffrey became a little melancholic, for the first time in what seemed forever, quietly lamenting the absence of offspring of her own. But these thoughts were just as quickly put aside as they had appeared. Linking her arm with her husbands, she managed to return a radiant smile when the tiny Munchkins offered her freshly plucked bunches of flowers.

The monstrous, terrifying dragons were the highlight of the day, of course, closely followed by the elegant Pfenix that was on display in the _Golden Forest_ section of the park. But even the smaller attractions – all the manifold animals and Animals – were no less than fascinating. It seemed like the entire day would be just perfect, but later in the afternoon, a brisk wind got up and soon gathered a thick layer of dark clouds above their heads. Only a couple of minutes later, the gust had intensified. Women were hard pressed to decide whether they should rather hold onto to their billowing skirts, or preserve their meticulously coiffed hair. Glinda produced her tear and make-up stained scarf from her purse, and used it (the less smutted side out) to protect her golden curls, which left her hands free to manage her dress. Chuffrey smiled. He expected no less of his not only charming, but also shrewd wife. Park personnel soon made the rounds, collecting visitors from the most affected areas of the premises. They were guided to a small café, and treated to a cup of tea and a slice of fresh cherry tart.

It was one hour later, when the storm suddenly died down. Eager to continue their explorations, the Munchkin girls were already on their way to the door, and the adults of the group sorting out their belongings, when a young man with a grin, wider than his face, entered the shop.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that we will have to close all the areas of the park in proximity to any Animal enclosures. Some of our assets are on the loose, and we are concerned for our visitors' safety."

One man sitting near them, a traveller from the Glikkus she guessed, harrumphed something about wanting a refund. The grinning Munchkin seemed to have heard his complaint.

"My apologies Sir, but we are not obliged to compensate you, as this clearly was an act of nature, outside of our control. Yet we will be happy to supply you a raincheck voucher," he added with a wink. "After all, today should be a day of celebration for all free citizens of Munchkinland."

"And why is that?" Master Feldensteen piped up, since he, as a Munchkin, naturally was keen to learn what was so noteworthy about this day.

"The Witch is dead!" the park employee announced to the entire room, clapping his small, short-fingered hands.

Those who were also of Munchkin birth rose to their feet and likewise began applauding and cheering, while most of the other guests exchanged puzzled looks. Glinda couldn't shake the terrible feeling that this incidence concerned her as well. When most of the other patrons filed out of the café to either continue their tour thorugh the park, or make their way home to celebrate, she puffed up her hair, re-adjusted the skirt of her dress, and approached the Munchkin.

"Excuse me, good Sir, could you please be so kind as to elucidate the circumstances of the Witch's death? And if I may ask such a silly question: who even is the Witch?"

The park employee studied her, clearly not making the slightest attempt at concealing his disdain. Glinda wasn't offended. She already knew that many of the smaller folk begrudged the other Ozians' surplus of inches when it came to stature. What did bother her, was that the Munchkin didn't seem inclined to answer any of her questions.

"He's speaking of the Wicked Witch of the East," Master Feldensteen clarified, suddenly appearing like out of thin air beside her. "It's somewhat unclear whether she chose the name, or whether someone else invented it for her, or whether she truly had any powers to speak of – other than those of governance, which she tended to abuse regularly-"

"You are speaking of the Eminent Thropp," Glinda realised. The short man nodded briefly, and she felt a heavy weight drop in her stomach. "I see," she pressed out, her mouth no more than a thin line.

"The storm brought a house down on her in the middle of Centre Munch," the park employee finally supplied, addressing his compatriot rather than the Gillikinese. The blonde clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle a small outcry.

She returned to their table and whispered something in Chuffrey's ear, before returning to the two Munchkins who were now engaged in an animated discussion.

"My apologies for interrupting, gentlemen."

They turned towards her. The park employee's attitude towards her seemed to have changed somewhat, and she inwardly thanked her newfound friend for easing the tensions between them.

"As it happens, my husband and I have certain ties with the government in the Emerald City, as well as Munchkinland. I believe my presence at the scene of the disaster could be helpful."

"Disaster?" The park employee barked out a big laugh. "You misunderstand Madame, there is nothing disastrous about loosing such a cruel dictator."

"Of course." Despite how she felt inside, Glinda's smile stayed firmly in place. As much affection and empathy she'd had for poor Nessarose, she could not hold it against the Munchkin that he despised the late governor so much. "However, I am not talking about Miss Thropp. My concern is solely for the people who were affected by the severe weather. A storm so violent that it brought down a house on the governor must have left great destruction across the town, and when the terrible wind we experienced here is anything to go by-"

"Fine, fine!" The park employee snorted grumpily and rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"A ride. One that is quicker than our old carriage – as I understand it, in such emergencies, time is of the essence."

The short man eyed her suspiciously.

"And what exactly do you have in mind?"

* * *

About thirty-five minutes later, she dismounted the borrowed Pfenix, casting a quick spell to send him back home. She found the centre of Centre Munch in a dreadful state, yet hopefully, it seemed like the storm had not claimed too many casualties. Nessarose remained the only fatality, and the other victims were already on their way to various hospitals, or were being treated by voluntary paramedics. Instead of crisis management, she had to deal with a homely, little girl, who allegedly had been inside the house at the time of the accident. To cap it all, she claimed to come from Kansas, a place Glinda had never even heard of. When asked about a way back, there not much she could do but to refer the unwitting child to the Wizard. So she sent her in the direction of the Emerald City, giving her Nessa's shoes to take with her as protection. Secretly, she hoped that the child would give up halfway along the way.

When this tricky matter was finally taken care off, she turned towards the spot where the governor's red and white striped legs - the feet now shoeless – still stuck out from under the building.

"Oh Nessa," she sighed quietly, so that no one could hear her, and blinked away a tear.

It was difficult to find volunteers to recover the body from under the house. Most of the bystanders thought that it would be more befitting to let the Witch rot right where the house hat hit her. Only when Glinda pointed out what a terrible stench this would cause, a few young men agreed to help out.

* * *

The funeral was set to take place almost two weeks later. It had taken her that long to make the arrangements. Thankfully, Nessa still had a handful of faithful followers, and once she had been able to locate them, they had taken on many of the more tedious tasks.

The day prior, Glinda woke from a restless sleep. A telegram had been delivered late last night, informing her that the other Thropp sister had arrived at Colwen Grounds. She had experienced an odd kind of almost juvenile excitement bubbling up within her. She was a little ashamed of her joy, due to the dreadful circumstances, but she couldn't help herself. How many years had it been since she last saw Elphaba, her Elphie? And if the prospect of meeting her old school friend again wasn't enough, she also realised that this might be the best, and perhaps last opportunity to safe her - whatever that would entail.

In the way of getting dressed, she chose a huge dress with all the bells and whistles. She knew it was a little too much, but at least it would get the conversation going. Elphie would make the one or the other snide remark, she would counter, and in the end, both would laugh about the familiarity of their banter. The idea made her expression melt into a wistful smile.

Though when she finally arrived at the mansion of Colwen Grounds, the thrill of the anticipation had turned into a feeling of dread. What if Elphaba didn't want to see her? Or what if – Lurline forbid – Elphaba didn't even recognise her! But her worst fears were those of failure. What if she once again would not be able to steer her friend's life into the right direction? What would become of her Elphie then? Would she ever know? Would she ever forgive herself?

Approaching the veranda of the grand house across the lawn, the blonde could recognise the outline of two people. Only a couple of paces further, she could clearly see that one of them was distinctively green. Her heart leapt into her throat. Her delicate shoes turning to iron clogs, it took hear much willpower to proceed. The green woman had noticed her as well, it seemed, and was now headed towards her. The imminent meeting scared Glinda so much that she slowed down her pace even more.

"Miss Glinda of the Arduennas," Elphaba greeted her and stopped midstride.

Upon hearing the familiar voice of her friend, so dearly missed for over a decade, the Gillikinese's mouth formed a wide grin, despite her reservations.

"Oh, you came, I knew you would!" she exclaimed, almost too delighted. "Miss Elphaba, the last true Eminent Thropp, no matter what they say!"

Seeing Elphaba's face up close immediately took her back to her time at Shiz.

"You haven't changed a whit," she said, and she meant it. Almost envyingly, she noted that maturity became Elphaba much better than her. It must be all the make-up she always put on, she sighed inwardly, but then relented. The poor woman's verdigris complexion must be good for something.

The two friends walked side by side back to the veranda.

"Is this your father?" she asked. Elphaba nodded, but shushed her, as the old man had nodded off.

The green witch, taking Glinda's arm, guided them towards the gardens. The tingly feeling in her stomach nearly paralysed the blonde, and she didn't speak for a while, unable to form any clear thoughts, until one of Elphaba's brazen remarks snapped her out of it.

"Glinda, you look hideous in that getup. I thought you'd have developed some sense by now."

"When in the provinces," Glinda replied, "you have to show them a little style. I don't think it's so bad. Or are the satin bells at the shoulder a bit too too?"

"Excessive," agreed the witch. "Someone get the scissors; this is a disaster."

They laughed. It was just as Glinda had imagined. Until they began fighting over that silly girl, Dorothy, and Nessarose's shoes Glinda had given her. Elphaba's anger came as a complete surprise to her. She would never have guessed that she would put so much value on those stupid, worn shoes. She said as much, but that did little to appease the witch. The blonde felt unjustifiably blamed. She'd had her reasons, too! After all, the shoes couldn't have stayed in Munchkinland. Those provincial simpletons had put way too much significance into that pair of slippers, whose only powers were to keep a crippled girl on her feet. But Elphaba didn't listen. To make matters worse, she accused her of collaboration with the Wizard, working towards the annexation of Munchkinland.

Glinda's tried to see thorugh her friend's blind rage. She reached out to touch her elbow.

"They won't make your father love you any better," she said quietly, unsure whether she should meet the witch's eyes. She did, and Elphaba pulled aback.

They stood for a good while, glaring at each other, neither budging. It was ridiculous, really, after all they had done and shared, that something so mundane as a pair of shoes could still drive such a wedge between them. But Glinda couldn't give in, and neither did Elphaba.

"I want those shoes," she insisted one last time and whirled around in a fury, stomping back towards the house.

Glinda cried silently as her carriage brought her back to Centre Munch. When they passed through the main gate, she hurriedly produced a handkerchief from her purse to dry her face. Then a fresh layer of powder was applied to her cheeks to conceal the tracks and the swelling the tears had left behind. By the time she arrived back at her suite, no sign betrayed her emotional turmoil.

"Did you meet your friend?" Chuffrey asked, barely looking up from the paperwork he was doing.

Ridding herself of her travel cape and bonnet, his wife sighed.

"That I did."

"You don't seem happy," he remarked distractedly.

"Well… It has been a long time. We both have changed a lot."

It was a blatant lie, but Chuffrey wouldn't know any better. Of course they both had lived a lot of life in the mean time, but underneath all these superficial changes, they were still Glinda and Elphaba. At its most elementary level, their relationship was unchangeable, almost as though they were meant for each other. Only that destiny seemed to enjoy poking fun at them, keeping them apart ever since that brief time they had been so close Glinda could have sworn their souls had touched one another (no matter how relentlessly Elphie insisted she did not possess one of those).

Sitting by the window, lost in thoughts, the blonde did not notice when her husband put his pen aside and opened a drawer to conjure a package, wrapped in plain, brown paper and tied with parcel twine.

"Here," he said, and held the object out towards her.

She turned around, sniffling slightly, staring at the package – obviously a book – with big eyes.

"What is this?" she inquired as she began unwrapping. A small gasp escaped her lips when the tile came in sight.

"You were looking for this, right?"

She nodded mutely, and pressed _Lives of the Saints_ against her chest. He was confused, as she didn't appear as delighted as he had hoped.

"Are you sure everything is all right?"

Nodding once more, she stood, the book still cradled close to her heart. She offered him a slight smile, kissed his stubbly cheek, and disappeared into the bedroom.

* * *

The memorial service was the following day. She and Chuffrey perched in the balcony reserved for dignitaries and ambassadors. Glinda knew that Elphaba sat just below them, together with her father. But infuriatingly, at no point, made the witch eye contact with her. She and her father left before the end, and so another chance for Glinda to reconcile with her friend slipped thorugh her fingers.

Another four days later, Glinda had given up. She and Chuffrey would leave Munchkinland the next morning. Still, she travelled one last time to Colwen Grounds. To properly express her condolences to Elphaba and Nessa's father, she told her husband, and herself. She wasn't sure whether Elphaba was still there, or had already left. She pretended that she preferred the latter, but her heart was not so easily fooled.

As she disembarked her carriage, her heart almost stopped, for across the forecourt, Elphaba was striding right towards her. Both women averted their eyes as they met halfway, and hurried their feet along their opposing ways. She could feel the wind when Elphaba moved passed, could detect her unique scent. Her heart was as heavy as a boulder. She was scared, almost too scared to turn around. Yet she did. She wheeled about and called out to the witch.

"Oh, Elphie!"

The witch did not turn, but was it Glinda's rampant imagination, or did she slow down just a notch?"

"Elphie, please! Don't you remember our little adventure, our trip to the Emerald City?"

Elphaba stopped for a split-second, but then pigheadedly trotted onwards.

"Well, I do!" the blonde shouted louder than she usually did. Whether it was her words, or the outrageous volume; the green woman stopped dead in her tracks.

Hesitantly, and her stomach churning, Glinda caught up with her, until she stood only two paces away from her. She wouldn't shout the words she was about to say next, but she still meant for her Elphie to hear them.

"You know, I loved you."

She swallowed hard.

"And I love you still."

It was then, that the witch chose to turn around.

* * *

 _ **AN:**_

 _Ok, so that's it... Well, almost... If you have any questions, or are simply curious, check out the next page, where I put together a short appendix ;)_


	12. Appendix

**Appendix:**

Okay, so I'll use this non-chapter for some clarifications, including important book element some of you might not be familiar with, and some personal head canon-stuff/ stuff I made up for this story, which is not IN the story though. Here you go:

* * *

This first section is especially for those among you who haven't read the book or can't remember much of the stuff going on (especially since I'm partially playing at details not central to the plot of the original _Wicked_ series.

 **Yackle.**

So what's up with that Yackle person?

In _"The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West,"_ an old crone who calls herself Yackle has this uncanny tendency to show up at several (turning) points of Elphaba's life. Somewhere on the internet, I read someone calling her Elphaba's "fiend guardian" and her "anti-fairy godmother." I love those descriptions, especially the last one! In fact, it is later (in _"A Lion Among Men"_ ) clarified that she was created for the sole purpose of witnessing Elphaba's life. Huh… A bit odd, right? But yeah, that's what it looks like. Arguably, she pushes Elphaba more and more towards her destiny (?) as the Wicked Witch of the West whenever they meet. I tried to portray her in a more favourable, yet still not entirely unambiguous light (I say "more favourable" because ultimately, Elphaba could have had a much happier life and much less crappy ending if certain things in her life had just turned out differently). Some of my interpretations of Yackle diverge even more from the book version, so see below in the next section.

 **Glinda and Elphaba's final final meeting.**

A while ago, heatqueen and I did a little project - a style write off where we both took on one-shot prompts and did our own versions (if you're interested: see link on my profile page, or check out heatqueen's story list). One prompt we never got to was submitted by Smarmy Puggles, who unfortunately no longer hangs around here (but her writing really is amazing! You totally should check it out!): " _The two meeting again in colwen grounds towards the end of the book (the bit with the boulder pressing down etc - but maybe you could make a happy ending?_ _"_ So I sort of did that… except that it's still ambiguous – which is arguably better than a definitely _not_ happy ending, right? lol So the original was:

 _"_ _As she strode through the forecourt of Colwen Grounds, she crossed paths once again with Glinda. But both women averted their eyes and hurried their feet along their opposing ways. For the Witch, the sky was a huge boulder pressing down on her. For Glinda it was much the same. But Glinda wheeled about, and cried out, "Oh Elphie!" The Witch did not turn. They never saw each other again."_ Some of you might criticize the shortness of the entire part where they finally meet again. I'd agree that the balance seems a little off, maybe, but that's because otherwise I'd just copy everything in the book. So read the book if you want more ;)

* * *

Now concerning things that slightly changed from the book(s)…

 **First a totally insignificant thing:**

In the book Glinda visits an Orphanage by Mossmere, not in Center Munch. Center Munch fit better in my story, I thought. But seriously, who'd even care? Lol

 **Some more Yackle.**

So in "resent day" Oz, Yackle was born from the Grimmerie to witness the life of Elphaba Thropp. When she came into this world, she was already fully aged and had no memories of any past life (if there ever was one). In my story she did have an earlier life (and actually probably many more) and at least one of them she remembers surprisingly well. Now my idea was that (and that's not included in the story, so don't worry if this doesn't sound familiar – you didn't miss it) because of the similarities, and maybe for various other reasons – such as sheer coincidence – she remembers the story of Saint Aelphaba and Galynda (whose name might not have been _'Galynda'_ after all) after meeting first Elphaba, and then Glinda (maybe also because she was reminded when Glinda read the book to the children). That's why she turns up at Glinda's hotel to recruit her as a little helper of fate.

* * *

Finally, a short Q&A section, inspired by some reader questions I received via PM.

 **How does Yackle disappear into the book?**

So Yackle was created from the Grimmerie. She lives for quite a while, watching over Aelphaba first, then later, Elphaba. In _"The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West,"_ she waits for death to finally take her, but apparently she is immortal. She can finally retire once she finds the Grimmerie. So every time when her task is fulfilled, she goes back to where she came from. For a little taste as far as the technical side is concerned, here an excerpt form _"A Lion Among Men"_ :

 _"_ _S_ _he disappeared into the Grimmerie like a diver entering the deepest parts of a magic pool: slow-motion, full of grace, the toes in the gleam; casting off wretchedness, casting off the shroud. She folded magically into the Grimmerie, her third and fourth dimensions laddering accordion-like into the secret unnamed dimensions of a page. They all leaned over the great book to watch."_

(There is more, but if you want to read that, you should consult the actual book ;) )

 **How did Galynda get pregnant?**

I consider Aelphaba a bit of a magical being, due to the spell that has been cast on her. When they get really close, emotionally (which was also physically expressed, but the physical act of lovemaking itself was _not_ the cause for the pregnancy!), a part of Aelphaba's soul, energy, spirit – I don't really care what you wanna call it – is transferred to Galynda. Yackle notices that, and to prevent imminent (and actual) heartbreak (because the longing for Aelphaba was threatening to consume the poor girl), she gives her two potions to choose from. One of them would purge Aelphaba's spirit from her body, and she'd never remember the two even met. The other would strengthen whatever bit of Aelphaba remains within Galynda's body, so that it's almost like they are always together. As it happened (and that is quickly touched on in chapter 9), that spirit was sitting in a most opportune place – Galynda's womb. Due to the portion, it was strong enough to develop into a child.

Now there are two options. I originally hinted at the first one in one of my AN's, and it freaked some of you out. Although the explanation might make it somewhat better, I'd also like to say that I decided that it was stupid at me not to let you guys just make up your own mind. I usually don't like dictating readers' interpretations if it's left blank in the story [[Okay, so what the heck am I doing with this appendix?! Actually, it was requested by some ppl… so yeah…]]. So anyway… the options: 1) The child consists entirely of Aelphaba's spirit and is therefore technically Aelphaba herself, or a clone, or whatever. In this case Galynda would be more of a surrogate than a mother. Or 2) Some mingling of spirits/DNA took place, and both girls are the child's biological/ spiritual mothers. Pick one, I don't mind which one you prefer ;)

 **Related to this: Why did the child need "more Aelphaba"?**

Like a normal fetus needs oxygen or nutrients, this child needs Aelphaba's spirit to grow. It was already created from that soul, but due to the potion Galynda took, some of the soul left behind in her body was too firmly attached to her. The childe needed that bit though, so Yackle gave her the other potion she had offered her in the beginning – the one that would make her forget. Aelphaba's soul detached from Galynda's body and was absorbed by the child, who was still born premature, but strong enough since it had all it needed.

I hope this sorta helped…If anyone else has any questions, don't hesitate to ask me! If it's something I think I could share, I'd also add it to the Q&A.

* * *

TBH, I'm not 100% sure how I feel about adding this appendix to the story… I'm a bit worried that me writing this means that I did a crappy job at writing it properly in the first place… but then again, sometimes there just are works that need some further explanations on the side, because adding everything to the actual story would make it a clumsy read. This case is probably somewhere in the middle, so I suppose I can live with this, haha!

Okay, so that's me signing out! Next story coming up is _"May I Hold You Tonight"_ – another Gelphie, slightly messed up and in the M-rated category :P I won't be able to post before the end of the semester (so November, I guess), but I'm already working on it :)

Bye for now!

Xoxo

MLE :3


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